The Waverley novels

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from the estate of
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WAVERLEY NOVELS

Centenarg ^tiitfon
VOL. I.

cyUa.'C€^€yc..yyuzyC{^^

J'o.^e^ 410.

WA^miiihlEY

OR TIS SIXTY YEARS SIITCE,

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"It malces me 7-0 uag again to see you-iere.M? ■WaTerLeyl Awortiy
BCicm of the old stock of WaTerley Honoux. &-nri goyouTiaTre mount
odthe cockade? n^t.riglit;fhoQgh I conld iave wislied the colour
aiaarent.andsol-wonld ha' deemed might Sir Everard"

fiDlNBURGH ADAK ir CHARLES BLACK.

THE

WAVERLEY NOVELS

BY

SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.

WAVERLEY

Under which King, Bezonian ? speak, or die !

Henry IV. Part II.

EDINBURGH : ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK
1889

TO
MAEY MONICA HOPE SCOTT

OF ABBOTSFORD

THIS EDITION OF

THE NOVELS OF HER GREAT-GRANDFATHER

WALTER SCOTT

IS
DEDICATED

BY THE PUBLISHERS.

AD VERTISEMEJYT.

IN printing this New Edition of the VTaverley Novels^ the
Publishers have availed themselves of the opportunity to collate
it carefully with the valuable interleaved copy in their possession,
containing the Author's latest manuscript corrections and notes ;
and from this source they have obtained several annotations of
considerable interest, not hitheiio published. As examples of
some of the more important of these may be m£,ntioned the notes
on ^^ High Jinks" in Guy Maiineiing, ^* Frcetorium" in the
Antiquary, and the " Expulsion of the Scotch Bishops " in the
Heart of Midlothian.

There have also been inserted (within brackets) some minor
notes explanatory of references now rendered perhaps somewhat
obscure by the lapse of time. For these, the Publishers have
been chiefly indebted to David Lai/ng, LL.D., Secretary of the
Bannatyne Club, and one of the few sfwrviving friends of the
Author.

Fortunately there is now little more required in the way of
annotation to the Waverley Novels ; hut in order to afford every
facility of reference, a special glossary has been added to such
of the novels as require it, and each volume contains a separate
index: while a General Index has also been appended to the
concluding volume of the series.

Edinbuboh, August 15, 1871.

It has been the occasional occupation of the Author of TFaverley for
several years past to revise and correct the voluminous series of
Novels which pass under that name, in order that, if they should
ever appear as his avowed productions, he might render them in
some degree deserving of a continuance of the public favour with
ivhich they have been honoured ever since their first appearance. For
a long period, however, it seemed likely that the improved and illus-
trated edition which he meditated would be a posthumous publication.
But the course of the events which occasioned the disclosure of the
Author^ s name haviiig in a great measure restored to him a sort of
parental control over these Works, he is naturally induced to give
them to the press in a corrected, and, he hopes, an improved form,
while life and health permit the task of revising and illustrating
them. Such being his purpose, it is necessary to say a few words
on the plan of the proposed Edition,

In stating it to be revised and corrected, it is not to be inferred
that any attempt is made to alter the tenor of the stories, the charac-
ter of the actors, or the spirit of the dialogue. There is no doubt
ample room for emendation in all these points — but where the tree
falls it must lie. Any attempt to obviate criticism, however just,
by altering a work already in the hands of the public, is generally
unsuccessful. In the most improbable fictio7i the reader still desires
some air of vraisemblance, and does not relish that the incidents of
a tale familiar to him should be altered to suit the taste of critics,
or the caprice of the author himself This process of feeling is so
natural that it may be observed even in children, wlw cannot endure

VOL. I. B

ADVERTISEMENT.

I

that a nursery story should he repeated to them differently from the
manner in which it was first told.

But without altering in the slightest degree either the story or the
mode of telling it, the Author has taken this opportunity to correct
errors of the press and slips of the pen. That such should exist
cannot he wondered at, when it is considered that the Puhlishers
found it their interest to hurry through the press a succession of the
early editions of the various Novels, and that the Author had not
the usual opportunity of revision. It is hoped that the present
edition will he found free from errors of that accidental kind.

The Author has also ventured to make some emendations of a
different character, which, without heing such apparent deviations
from the original stories as to disturh the reader's old associations,
ivill, he thinks, add something to the spirit of the dialogue, narrative,
or description. These consist in occasional pruning/ where the lan-
guage is redundant, compression where the style is loose, infusion of
vigour where it is languid, the exchange of less forcible for Tnore
appropriate epithets — slight alterations, in short, like the last touches
of an artist, which contribute to heighten and finish the picture,
thou/jh an inexperienced eye can hardly detect in what they consist.

The General Preface to the new Edition, and the Introductory
Notices to each separate work, will contain an account of such cir-
cumstances attending the first publication of the Novels and Tales
as may appear interesting in themselves or proper to he communicated
to the public. The Author also proposes to publish on this occasion
the various legends, family traditions, or obscure historical facts,
which have formed the ground-work of these Novels, and to give some
account of the places where the scenes are laid, when these are alto-
gether or in part real ; as well as a statement of particular incid&nts
founded on fact ; together with a more copious Glossary, and Notes
expla'iiatory of the ancient customs and popular superstitions referred
to in the Romances.

Upon the whole, it is hoped that the Waverley Novels, in their
new dress, will not be found to have lost any part of their attractions
in consequence of receiving illustrations by the Author, and under-
going his careful revision.

Abbotsford, Janicary 1829.

A- i ix^^f-^A i I:

'■•'... -iSii:^. ....•

To this slight attempt at a sketch of ancient Scottish manners the
piiblic have been more favourable than the Author durst have hoped
or expected. He has heard, with a mixture of satisfaction and
Mimility, his worJc ascribed to more than one respectable name.
Considerations, which seem weighty in his particular situation, pre-
vent his releasing those gentlemen from suspicion by placing his own
name in the title-page ; so that, for the present at least, it must re-
main uncertain whether Waverley be the work of a poet or a
critic, a lawyer or a clergyman, or whether the writer, to use Mrs.
Malapropos phrase, be, " like Cerberus — three gentlemen at once."
The Author, as he is unconscious of anything in the work itself
(except, perhaps, its frivolity) which prevents its finding an acknow-
ledged father, leaves it to the candour of the public to choose among
the many circumstances peculiar to different situations in life, such
as may induce him to suppress his name on the present occasion.
He may be a writer new to publication, and unwillituj to avow a
character to which he is unaccustomed ; or he may be a hackneyed
author who is ashamed of too frequent appearance, and employs this
mystery, as the heroine of the old comedy used her mask to attract
the attention of those to whom her face had become too familiar.
He may be a man of a grave profession, to whom the reputation of
being a novel-writer might be prejudicial ; or he may be a man of
fashion, to whom writing of any kind might appear pedantic. He
may be too young to assume the character of an author, or so old as
to make it advisable to lay it aside.

PEEFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.

The Author of Waverley has heard it objected to this novel that
in the character of Galium Beg, and in the account given by the
Baron of Bradwardine of the petty trespasses of the Highlanders
upon trifling articles of property, he has borne hard, and unjustly
so, upon their national character, Nothimj could be farther from
his wish or intention. The character of Galium Beg is that of a
spirit naturally turned to daring evil, and determined, by the cir-
cumstances of his situation, to a particular species of mischief.
Those who have perused the curious Letters from the Highlands,
'published about 1726, will find instances of such atrocious characters
which fell under the writer's own observation, though it would be
most unjust to consider such villains as representatives of the High-
landers of that period, any more than the murderers of Marr and
Williamson can be supposed to represent the English of the present
day. As for the plunder supposed to have been picked up by some
of the insurgents in 1745, it must be remembered that, although the
way of that unfortunate little army was neither marked by devasta-
tion nor bloodshed, but, on the contrary, was orderly and quiet in a
most wonderful degree, yet no army marches through a country
in a hostile manner without committing some depredations; and
several to the extent and of the nature jocularly imputed to them by
the Baron, were really laid to the charge of the Highland insurgents;
for which many traditions, and particularly one respecting the
Knight of the Mirror, may be quoted as good evidence.*

* See note. Author's Address to all in general, p. 469.

GEKERAL PREFACE, 1829.

■And viust I ravel out

Myweaved-up follies 1 Richard II. Act IV.

Ha vino U7uler taken to give an Introductory Account of the com-
positions which are here offered to the public, with Notes and
Illustrations, the Author, under whose name they are now for the
first time collected, feels that he has the delicate task of speaking
more of himself and his personal concerns, than may perhaps be
either graceful or prudent. In this particular, he runs the risk of
prese7iting himself to the public in the relation that the dumb icife
in the jest-book held to her husband, when, having spent half of his
fortune to obtain the cure of her imperfection, he was willing to
have bestowed the other half to restore her to her former condition.
But this is a risk inseparable from the task ivhich the Author has
undertaken, and he can only promise to be as little of an egotist as
the situation will permit. It is perhaps an indifferent sign of a
disposition to keep his word, that having introduced himself in the
third person singular, he proceeds in the second paragraph to make
use of the first. But it appears to him that the seeming modesty
connected ivith the former mode of writing, is overbalanced by the
inconvenience of stiffness and affectation which attends it during
a narrative of some length, and which may be observed less or
more in every work in which the third person is used, from the
Commentaries of Ccesar, to the Autobiograp)hy of Alexander the
Corrector.*

I must refer to a very early period of my life, were I to point
out my first achievements as a tale-teller — but I believe some of
my old schoolfellows can still bear witness that I had a distin-
guished character for that talent, at a time when the applause of

* (Alexander the Corrector, a name assumed by Alexander Cruden, best
known as the author of the Concordance. Among various other pamphlets, he
published in three parts " The Adventures of Alexander the Corrector," 1754 and
1755_'< exhibiting," says Alexander Chalmers, "a species of insanity which is
almost unique.")

6

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

my companions was my recompense for the disgraces and punisli-
ments which the future romance-writer incurred for being idle him-
self, and keeping others idle, duriTig hours that should have been
employed on our tasks. The chief enjoyment of my holidays was
to escape with a chosen friend, who had the same taste with myself,
and alternately to recite to each other such wild adventures as we
were able to devise. We told, each in turn, interminable tales of
knight-errantry and battles and enchantments, which were continued
from one day to another as opportunity offered, without our ever
thinking of bringiifig them to a conclusion. As we observed a strict
secrecy on the subject of this intercourse, it acquired all the character
of a concealed pleasure ; and we used to select, for the scenes of our
indulgence, long walks through the solitary and romantic environs
of Arthur's Seat, Salisbury Crags, Braid Hills, and similar places
in the vicinity of Edinburgh ; and the recollection of those holidays
still forms an oasis in the pilgrimage which I have to look back
upon. I have only to add, that my friend * still lives a prosperous
gentleman, but too much occupied with graver business, to thank me
for indicating him more plainly as a confidant of my childish
mystery.

When boyhood advancing into youth required more serious studies
and graver cares, a long illness threw me back on the kingdom of
fiction, as if it were by a species of fatality. My indisposition
arose, in part at least, from my having broken a blood-vessel ; and
motion and speech were for a long time pronounced positively
dangerous. For several weeks I was confined strictly to my bed,
during which time I was not allowed to speak above a whisper, to
eat more than a spoonful or two of boiled rice, or to have more
covering/ than one thin counterpane. When the reader is informed
that I was at this time a growing youth, with the spirits, appetite,
and impatience of fifteen, and suffered, of course, greatly under this
severe regimen, which the repeated return of my disorder rendered
indispensable, he will not be surprised that I was abandoned to my
own discretion, so far as reading (my almost sole amusement) was
concerned, and still less so, that I abused the indulgence which left
my time so much at my own disposal.

There was at this time a circulating library in Edinburgh,

founded, I believe, by the celebrated Allan Ramsay, which, besides

containing a most respectable collection of books of every description,

was, as might have been exjjected, peculiarly rich in works of fiction.

* (John Irving, writer to the Signet, Edinburgh, died 1S50.)

GENERAL PREFACE. 7

It exhibited specimens of evenj hind from the romances of chivalry,
and the ponderous folios of Cyrus and Cassandra, down to the most
approved works of later times. I was plunged into this great ocean
of reading without compass or pilot ; and unless when some one had
the charity to play at chess with me, I ivas allowed to do nothing
save read, from morniiu) to night. I was, in kindness and pity,
lohich was perhaps errorieous, however natural, permitted to select
my subjects of study at my own pleasure, upon the same principle
that the humours of children are indulged to keep them out of
mischief. As my taste and appetite were gratified in nothiiuj else,
I indemnified myself by becoming a glutton of books. Accordingly,
I believe I read almost all the romances, old plays, and epic poetry,
in that formidable collection, and no doubt was unconsciously
amassing materials for the task in which it has been my lot to be
so much employed.

At the same time I did not in all respects abuse the license per-
mitted me. Familiar acguaintance with the specious miracles of
fiction brought ivith it some degree of satiety, and I began, by degrees,
to seek in histories, memoirs, voyages and travels, and the like,
events nearly as wonderful as those which were the work of imagina-
tion, with the additional advantage that they were at least in a
great measure true. The lapse of nearly two years, during which
I was left to the exercise of my own free will, was followed by a
temporary residence in the country, where I was again very lonely
but for the amusement which I derived from a good though old-
fashioned library. The vague and wild use which I made of this
advantage I cannot describe better than by referring my reader to
the desultory studies of Waverley in a similar situation; the
passages concerning whose course of reading were imitated from
recollections of my own. — It must be understood that the resem-
blance extends no farther.

Time, as it glided on, brought the blessings of confirmed health
and personal strength, to a degree which had never been expected or
hoped for. The severe studies necessary to render me fit for my
profession occupied the greater part of my time ; and the society of
my friends and companions who were about to enter life alo7ig with
me, filled up the interval ivith the usual amusements of young men.
I was in a situation which rendered serious labour indispensable ;
for, neither possessing, on the one hand, any of those peculiar advan-
tages vjhich are supposed to favour a hasty advance in the profession
of the laio, nor being, on the other hand, exposed to unusual obstacles

8 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

to interrupt my progress, I might reasonably expect to succeed accord-
ing to the greater or less degree of trouble which I should take to
qualify myself as a pleader.

It makes no part of the present story to detail how the success of
a few ballads had the effect of changing all the purpose and tenor of
my life, and of converting a painstaking lawyer of some years'
standing into a follower of literature. It is enough to say, that I
had assumed the latter character for several years before I seriously
thought of attempting a work of imagination in prose, although one
or two of my poetical attempts did not differ from romances other-
wise than by being written in verse. But yet, I may observe, that
about this time (now, alas I thirty years since) I had nourished the
ambitious desire of composing a tale of chivalry, which was to be in
the style of the Castle of Otranto, with plenty of Border characters,
and supernatural incident. Having found unexpectedly a chapter
of this intended work among some old papers, I have subjoined it to
this introductory essay, thinking some readers may account as curious,
the first attempts at romantic composition by an author who has
since written so much in that department."^ And those who com-
plain, noo unreasonably, of the profusion of the Tales which have
followed Waverley, may bless their stars at the narrow escape they
have made, by the commencement of the inundation which hod so
nearly taken place in the first year of the century, being postponed
for fifteen years later.

This particular subject was never resumed, but I did not abandon
the idea of fictitious composition in prose, though I determined to
give another turn to the style of the work.

My early recollections of the Highland scenery and customs made
so favourable an impression in the poem called the Lady of the Lake,
that I was induced to think of attempting something of the same
kind in prose. I had been a good deal in the Highlands at a time
when they were much less accessible and much less visited than they
have been of late years, and was acquainted with many of the
old warriors of 17^5, who were, like most veterans, easily induced to
fight their battles over again for the benefit of a willing listener like
myself. It naturally occurred to me that the ancient traditions and
high spirit of a people who, living in a civilised age and country,
retained so strong a tincture of manners belonging to an early period
of society, must afford a subject favourable for romance, if it should
not prove a curious tale marred in the telling.

* See the Fragment alluded to, in the Appendix No I. p. 470.

GENERAL PREFACE. 9

It was with some idea of this kind that, about the year 1805, I
threw together about one-third part of the first volume of Waverley,
It ivas advertised to be published by the late Mr. John Ballantyne,
bookseller in Edinburgh, under the name of " Waverley, or ^Tis
Fifty Years Since," a title afterwards altered to " ^Tis Sixty Years
Since,'* that the actual date of publication might be made to corre-
spond with the period in which the scene was laid. Having pro-
ceeded as far, I think, as the Seventh Chapter, I showed my work to
a critical friend, whose opinion was unfavourable ; and having then
some poetical reputation, I was unwilling to risk the loss of it by
attempting a new style of composition. I therefore threw aside the
work I had comme7iced, without either reluctance or remonstrance.
I ought to add, that though my ingenious friend's sentence was after-
wards reversed on an appeal to the public, it cannot be considered as
any imputation on his good taste, for the specimen subjected to his
criticism did not extend beyond the departure of the hero for Scotland,
and, consequently, had not entered upon the part of the story which
was finally found most interesting.

Be that as it may, this portion of the manuscript was laid aside
in the drawers of an old writing-desk, which, on my first coming to
reside at Abbotsford in 1811, was placed in a lumber garret, and
entirely forgotten. Thus, though I sometimes, among other literary
avocations, turned my thoughts to the continuation of the romance
which I had commenced, yet as I could not find what I had already
written, after searching such repositories as were within my reach,
and was too indolent to attempt to write it anew from memory, I as
often laid aside all thoughts of that nature.

Tivo circumstances in particular recalled my recollection of the
mislaid manuscript. The first was the extended and well-merited
fame of Miss Edgeworth, whose Irish characters have gone so far to
make the English familiar with the character of their gay and kind-
hearted neighbours of Ireland, that she may be truly said to have
done more towards completing the Union than perhaps all the legis-
lative enactments by which it has been followed up.

Without being so presumptuous as to hope to emulate the rich
humour, pathetic tenderness, and admirable tact, which pervade the
works of my accomplished friend, I felt that somethiiig might be
attempted for my own country of the same kind with that which
Miss Edgeivorth so fortunately achieved for Ireland — something
which might introduce her natives to those of the sister kingdom in a
more favourable light than they had been placed hitherto, and tend

10 WAVEELEY NOVELS.

to procure sympathy for their virtues and indulgence for their foibles.
I thought also that much of what I wanted in talent might he made
up hy the intimate acquaintance with the subject which I could lay
claim to possess, as having travelled through most parts of Scotland,
both Highland and Lowland ; having been familiar with the elder
as well as more modern race ; and having had from my infancy
free and unrestrained communication with all ranks of my country-
men, from the Scottish peer to the Scottish ploughman. Such ideas
often occurred to me, and constituted an ambitious branch of my
theory, however far short I may have fallen of it in practice.

But it was not only the triumphs of Miss Edgeworth which
worked in me emulation, and disturbed my indolence. I chanced
actually to engage in a work which formed a sort of essay piece, and
gave me hope that I might in time become free of the craft of
Romance-writing, and be esteemed a tolerable ivorkman.

In the year 1807-8 I undertook, at the request of John Murray,
Esq., of Albemarle Street, to arrange for publication some post-
humous productions of the late Mr. Joseph Strutt, distinguished as
an artist and an antiquary, amongst which was an unfinished
romance, entitled " Queenhoo-Hall." The scene of the tale was laid
in the reign of Henry VI., and the work luas written to illustrate
the manners, customs, and language of the people of England duriiuj
that period. The extensive acquaintance which Mr. Strutt had
acquired with such subjects in compiling his laborious " Horda
Angel Gynnan," his ^^ Royal and Ecclesiastical Antiquities,^^ and
his " Essay on the Sports and Pastimes of the People of England,"
had rendered him familiar with all the antiquarian lore necessary
for the purpose of composing the projected romance; and although
the manuscript bore the marks of hurry and incoherence natural to
the first rough draught of the author, it evinced (in my opinion)
considerable powers of imagination.

As the Work was unfinished I deemed it my duty, as Editor, to
supply such a hasty and inartificial conclusion as could be shaped
out from the story, of which Mr. Strutt had laid the foundation.
This concluding chapter'^ is also added to the present Introduction,
for the reason already mentioned regarding the preceding fragment.
It was a step in my advance towards romantic composition ; and to
preserve the traces of these is in a great measure the object of this

Queenhoo-Hall was not, however, very successful. I thought I
* See Appendix No. II. p. 479.

GENERAL PREFACE. 11

was aware of the reason, and sujyposed that, by rend&i'ing his lati-
guage too ancient, and displaying his antiquarian knowledge too
liberally, the ingenious author had raised up an obstacle to his own
success. Every work designed for mere amusement must be expressed
in language easily comprehended; and when, as is sometimes the
case in Queenhoo-Hall, the author addresses himself exclusively to
the Antiquary, he must be content to be dismissed by the general
reader with the criticism of Mungo, in the Padlock, on the Mauri-
tanian music, " JVJiat signifies me hear, if me no understand ?"

I conceived it possible to avoid this error ; and by rendering a
similar work more light and obvious to general comprehension,
to escape the rock on which my 'predecessor was shipwrecked. But I
ivas, on the other hand, so far discouraged by the indifferent recep-
tion of Mr. Strutt's romance, as to become satisfied that the manners
of the middle ages did not possess the interest which I had conceived ;
and was led to form the opinion that a romance founded on a
Highland story, and more modern events, would have a better chance
of popularity than a tale of chivalry. My thoughts, therefore, re-
turned more than once to the tale which I had actually commenced,
and accident at length threw the lost sheets in my way.

I happened to want some fishi'rig-tackle for the use of a guest,
when it occurred to me to search the old writing-desk already men-
tioned, in which I used to keep articles of that nature. I got access
to it with some difficulty, and in looking for lines and flies the long-
lost manuscript presented itself. I immediately set to ivork to com-
plete it according to my original purpose. And here I must frankly
confess that the mode in which I conducted the story scarcely
deserved the success which the romance afterwards attained. The
tale of Waverley was put together with so little care, that I cannot
boast of having sketched any distinct plan of the work. The whole
adventures of Waverley, in his movements up and down the country
with the Highland cateran Bean Lean, are managed without much
skill. It suited best, however, the road I wanted to travel, and per-
mitted me to introduce some descriptions of scenery and manners to
which the reality gave an interest which the powers of the author
might have otherwise failed to attain for them. And though I have
been in other instances a sinner in this sort, I do not recollect any
of these novels in which I have transgressed so widely as in the first
of the series.

Among other unfounded reports, it has been said that the copy-
right of Waverley was, during the book^s jjrogress through the press,

12 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

offered for sale to various booksellers in London at a very inconsider-
able 'price. This was not the case. Messrs. GonstaUe and Cadell,
who published the work, ivere the only persons acquainted with the
contents of the publication, and they offered a large sum for it while
in the course of printing, which, however, was declined, the author
not choosing to part with the copyright.

The origin of the story of Waverley, and the particular facts
on which it is founded, are given in the separate Introduction pre-
fixed to that romance in this edition, and require no notice in this
place.

Waverley was published in 181 4, cind as the title-page was
ivithout the name of the author, the work was left to win its way
in the world loithout any of the usual recommendations. Its pro-
gress was for some time slow ; but after the first two or three months,
its popularity had increased in a degree which must have satisfied
the expectations of the author, had these been far more sanguine than
he ever entertained.

Great anxiety was expressed to learn the name of the author, but
on this no authentic information could be attained. My original
motive for publishing the work anonymously , was the consciousness that
it was an experiment on the public taste which might very probably
fail, and therefore there was no occasion to take on myself the
personal risk of discomfiture. For this purpose considerable pre-
cautions were used to preserve secrecy. My old friend and school-
fellow, Mr. James Ballantyne, who printed these Novels, had the
exclusive task of corresponding with the Author, ivho thus had not
only the advantage of his professional talents, but also of his critical
abilities. The original manuscript, or, as it is technically called,
copy, was transcribed under Mr. Ballantyne^s eye by confidential
persons; nor was there an instance of treachery during the many
years in which these precautions were resorted to, although various
individuals were emploijed at different times. Double proof-sheets
were regularly printed off. One was forwarded to the author by Mr.
Ballantyne, and the alterations which it received were, by his own
hand, copied upon the other proof-sheet for the use of the printers, so
that even the corrected proofs of the author were never seen in the
printing office; and thus the curiosity of such eager inquirers as
made the most minute investigation, was entirely at fault.

But although the cause of concealing the author's name in the
first instance, when the reception of Waverley was doubtful, was
natural enough, it is more difficult, it may be thought, to account

GENERAL PREFACE. IS

for the same desire for secrecy during the subsequent editions, to
the amount of betwixt eleven and twelve thousand copies, which
followed each other close, and proved the success of the worh. I am
sorrxj I can give little satisfaction to queries on this subject. I have
already stated elsewhere, that I can render little better reason for
choosing to remain anonymous, than by saying with ShylocJc, that
such was my humour. It will be observed, that I had not the
usual stimulus for desiring personal reputation, the desire, namely,
to float amidst the conversation of men. Of literary fame, whether
merited or undeserved, I had already as much as might have con-
tented a mind more ambitious than mine ; and in entering into this
new contest for reputation, I might be said rather to endanger what
I had, than to have any considerable chance of acquiring more. I
was affected, too, by none of those motives which, at an earlier period
of life, would doubtless have operated upon me. My friendships
ivere formed, — my place in society fixed, — my life had attained its
middle course. My condition in society was higher perhaps than I
deserved, certainly as high as I wished, and there was scarce any
degree of literary success which could have greatly altered or improved
my personal condition.

I was not, therefore, touched by the spur of ambition, usually
stimulating on such occasions ; and yet I ought to stand exculpated
from the charge of ungracious or unbecoming indifference to public
applause. I did not the less feel gratitude for the public favour,
although I did not proclaim it, — as the lover who wears his
mistress's favour in his bosom, is as proud, though not so vain of
possessing it, as another who displays the token of her grace upon
his bonnet. Far from such an ungracious state of mind, I have
seldom felt more satisfaction than when, returning from a pleasure
voyage, I found Waverley in the zenith of popularity, and public
curiosity in full cry after the name of the author. The hnoivledge
that I had the public approbation, was like having the property of
a hidden treasure, not less gratifying to the owner than if all the
world knew that it was his own. Another advantage was connected
with the secrecy which I observed. I could appear, or retreat from
the stage at pleasure, without attracting any personal notice or
attention, other than what might be founded on suspicion only. In
my own person also, as a successful author in another department
of literature, I might have been charged with too frequent intrusions
on the public patience; but the Author of Waverley was in this
respect as impassable to the critic, as the Ghost of Hamlet to the

14 "WAVERLEY NOVELS.

partisan of Marcellus. Perhaps the curiosity of the public, irritated
by the existence of a secret, and kept afloat by the discussions which
took place on the subject from time to time, went a good way to
maintain an unabated interest in these frequent publications. There
was a mystery concerning the author, which each new novel was
expected to assist in unravelling, although it might in other resjyects
rank lower than its predecessors.

I may perhaps be thought guilty of affectation, should I allege
as one reason of my silence, a secret dislike to enter on personal
discussions concerning my own literary labours. It is in every case
a dangerous intercourse for an author to be dwelling continually
among those who make his writings a frequent and familiar subject
of conversation, hut who must necessarily be partial judges of works
composed in their own society. The habits of self-importance, which
are thus acquired by authors, are highly injurious to a well-regulated
mind ; for the cup of flattery, if it does not, like that of Circe,
reduce men to the level of beasts, is sure, if eagerly drained, to bring
the best and the ablest down to that of fools. This risk was in some
degree prevented by the mask which I wore ; and my own stores of
self-conceit were left to their natural course, without being enhanced
by the partiality of friends, or adulation of flatterers.

If I am asked further reasons for the conduct I have long observed,
I can only resort to the explanation supplied by a critic as friendly
as he is intelligent; namely, that the mental organization of the
Novelist must be characterised, to speak craniologically, by an extras
ordinary development of the passion for delitescency ! I the rather
suspect some natural disposition of this kind ; for, from the instant
I perceived the extreme curiosity manifested on the subject, I felt a
secret satisfaction in baffling it, for which, ivhen its unimportance
is considered, I do not well know how to account.

My desire to remain concealed, in the character of the Author of
these Novels, subjected me occasionally to awkward embarrassments,
as it sometimes happened that those who were sufficiently intimate
with me would put the question in direct terms. In this case, only
one of three courses could he followed. Either I must have sur-
rendered my secret, — or have returned an equivocating answer, — or,
finally, must have stoutly and boldly denied the fact. The first was
a sacrifice which I conceive no one Jiad a right to force from me,
since I alone was concerned in the matter. The alternative of
rendering a doubtful answer must have left me open to the degrading
suspicion that I was not unwillhig to assume the merit (if there

GENERAL PREFACE. IS

was any) which I dared not absolutely lay claim to ; or those who
might think more justly of me, must have received such an equivocal
answer as an indirect avowal. I therefore considered myself entitled,
like an accused person put upon trial, to refuse giving my own
evidence to my own conviction, and flatly to deny all that could not
he proved against me. At the same time I usually qualified my
denial by stating, that, had I been the author of these works, I would
have felt myself quite entitled to protect my secret by refusing my
own evidence, when it was asked for to accomplish a discovery of
wlmt I desired to conceal.

The real truth is, that I never expected or hoped to disguise my
connection with these Novels from any one who lived on terms of
intimacy with me. The number of coincidences which necessarily
existed between narratives recounted, modes of expression, and opinions
broached in these Tales, and such as were used by their author in
the intercourse of private life, must liave been far too great to permit
any of my familiar acquaintances to doubt the identity betwixt their
friend and the Author of Waverley ; and I believe they were all
morally convinced of it. But while I was myself silent, their belief
could not weigh much more with the world than that of others ; their
opinions and reasoning were liable to be taxed with partiality, or
confronted with opposing arguments and opinions ; and the question
was not so much, whether I should be generally acknowledged to be
the author, in spite of my own denial, as whether even my ovm
avowal of the works, if such should be made, would be sufficient to
put me in undisputed possession of that character.

I have been often asked concerning supposed cases, in which I was
said to have been placed on the verge of discovery ; but as I main-
tained my point with the composure of a lawyer of thirty years'
standing, I never recollect being in pain or confusion on the subject.
In Captain Medwyn's Conversations of Lord Byron, the reporter
states himself to have asked my noble and highly gifted friend, " If
he was certain about these Novels being Sir Walter Scott's?" To
which Lord Byron replied, " Scott as much as owned himself the
Author of Waverley to me in Mwiray's shop. I was talking to him,
about that novel, and lamented that its author had not carried back
the story nearer to the time of the Revolution — Scott, entirely off his
guard, replied, ' Ay, I might have done so ; but — ' there he stopped.
It was in vain to attempt to correct himself; he looked confused,
and relieved his embarrassment by a precipitate retreat." I have no
recollection whatever of this scene taking place, and I should have

16

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

thoufjht that I was more likely to have laughed than to appear con-
fused, for I certainly never hoped to impose upon Lord Byron in a
case of the kind ; and from the manner in which he uniformly ex-
pressed himself, I knew his opinion was entirely formed, and that
any disclamations of mine would only have savoured of affectation.
I do not mean to insinuate that the incident did not happen, hut
only that it could hardly have occurred exactly under the circum-'
stances narrated, without my recollecting something positive on the
subject. In another part of the same volume. Lord Byron is reported
to have expressed a supposition that the cause of my not avowing my-
self the Author of Waverley may have been some surmise that the
reigning family would have been displeased with the work. I can
only say, it is the last apprehension I should have entertained, as
indeed the inscription to these volumes sufficiently proves. The
sufferers of that melancholy period have, during the last and present
reign, been honoured both with the sympathy and protection of the
reigning family, whose magnanimity can well pardon a sigh from
others, and bestow one themselves to the memory of brave opponents,
who did nothing in hate, but all in honour.

JVJiile those who were in habitual intercourse with the real author
had little hesitation in assigning the literary property to him, others,
and those critics of no mean rank, employed themselves in investi-
gating with persevering patience any characteristic features which
might seem to betray the origin of these Novels. Amongst these, one
gentleman, equally remarkable for the kind and liberal tone of his
criticism, the acuteness of his reasoning, and the very gentlemanlike
manner in which he conducted his inquiries, displayed not only
powers of accurate investigation, but a temper of mind deserving to
he employed on a subject of much greater importance ; and I have no
doubt made converts to his opinion of almost all ivho thought the
point worthy of consideration. ^ Of those letters, and other attempts
of the same kind, the author could not complain, though his in^
cognito was endangered. He had challenged the public to a game at
bo-peep, and if he was discovered in his " hiding-hole," he must sub-
mit to the shame of detection.

Various reports were of course circulated in various ways ; some
founded on an accurate rehearsal of what may have been partly real,
some on circumstances having no concern whatever with the subject,
and others on the invention of some importunate persons, wJw might
perhaps imagine, that the readiest mode of forcing the author to dis-

* Letters on the Author of Waverley ; Rodwell & Martin, London, 1822.

GENERAL PREFACE. 17

close himself, was to assign some dishonourable and discreditable
cause for his silence.

It may be easily supposed that this sort of inquisition was treated
with contempt by the person whom it principally regarded ; as among
all the rumours that were current, there was only one, and that as
unfounded as the others, which had nevertheless some alliance to pro-
bability, and indeed might have proved in some degree true.

I allude to a report which ascribed a great part, or the whole, of
these Novels to the late Thomas Scott, Esq., of the 70th Regiment,
then stationed in Canada, Those who remember that gentleman will
readily grant, that, with general talents at least equal to those of his
elder brother, he added a power of social humour, and a deep insight
into human character, which rendered him an universally delightful
member of society, and tJiat the habit of composition alone was want-
ing to render him equally successful as a writer. The Author of
Waverley ivas so persuaded of the truth of this, that he warmly
pressed his brother to make such an experiment, and willingly under-
took all the trouble of correcting and superintending the press. Mr.
Thomas Scott seemed at first very well disposed to embrace the pro-
posal, and had even fixed on a subject and a hero. The latter was
a person well known to both of us in our boyish years, from having
displayed some strong traits of character. Mr. T. Scott had de-
termined to represent his youthful acquaintance as emigrating to
America, and encountering the dangers and hardships of the New
World, with the same dauntless spirit which he had displayed when
a boy in his native country. Mr. Scott would probably have been
highly successful, being familiarly acquainted with the manners of
the native Indians, of the old French settlers in Canada, and of the
Brules or Woodsmen, and having the power of observing with ac-
curacy what, I have no doubt, he could have sketched with force and
expression. In short, the Author believes his brother would have made
himself distinguished in that striking field, in which, since that
period, Mr. Cooper has achieved so many triumphs. But Mr. T.
Scott was already affected by bad health, which wholly unfitted hi/m c/^ \^
for literary labour, even if he could have reconciled his patience to \ ^^//^^^
the task. He never, I believe, wrote a single line of the projected ^
work ; and I only have the melancholy pleasure of preserving in the
Appendix,'^ the simple anecdote on which he proposed to found it.

To this I may add, I can easily conceive that there may have
been circumstances which gave a colour to the general report of my

* See Appendix, No. III. p. 489.
VOL. I. C

18 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

brother being interested in these works ; and in particular that it
might derive strength from my having occasion to remit to him, in
consequence of certain family transactions, some considerable sums
of money about that period. To which it is to be added, that if
any person chanced to evince particular curiosity on such a subject,
my brother was likely enough to divert himself with practising on
their credulity.

It may be mentioned, that while the paternity of these Novels was
from time to time warmly disputed in Britain, the foreign booJc-
sellers expressed no hesitation on the matter, but affixed my name to
the whole of the Novels, and to some besides to which I had no claim.

The volumes, therefore, to which the present pages form a Preface,
are entirely the comjjosition of the Author by whom they are now
a^^Jcnoioledged, ivith the exception, always, of avoived quotations, and
such unpremeditated and involuntary plagiarisms as can scarce be
guarded against by any one who has read and written a great deal.
The original manuscripts are all in existence, and entirely written
(horresco referens) in the Author^s own hand, excepting during the
years 1818 and 1819, when, being affected with severe illness, he was
obliged to employ the assistance of a friendly amanuensis.

The number of persons to whom the secret was necessarily en-
trusted, or communicated by chance, amounted I should think to
twenty at least, to whom I am greatly obliged for the fidelity with
which they observed that trust, until the derangement of the affairs
of my publishers, Messrs. Constable and Co., and the exposure of
their accompt-books, which was the necessary consequence, rendered
secrecy no longer possible. The particulars attending the avowal
have been laid before the public in the Introduction to the Chronicles
of the Canongate.

The preliminary advertisement has given a sketch of the purpose
of this edition. I liave some reason to fear that the notes which
accompany the tales, as now published, may be thought too miscel-
laneous and too egotistical. It may be some apology for this, that
the publication was intended to be posthumous, and still more, that
old men may be permitted to speak long, because they cannot in the
course of nature have long time to speak. In preparing the present
edition, I have done all that I can do to explain the nature of my
materials, and the use I have made of them ; nor is it probable that
I shall again revise or even read these tales. I was therefore desir-
ous rather to exceed in the portion of new and explanatory matter
which is added to this edition, than tlmt the reader should have

GENERAL PREFACE. 19

reason to complain that the information com/municated was of a
general and merely nominal character. It remains to be tried
whether the public (like a child to whom a watch is shown) will,
after having been satiated with loohing at the outside, acquire some
new interest in the object when it is opened, and the internal
machinery displayed to them.

That Waverley and its successors have had their day of favour
and popularity must be admitted with sincere gratitude ; and the
Author has studied (with the prudence of a beauty whose reign has
been rather long) to supply, by the assistance of art, the charms
which novelty no longer affords. The publishers have endeavoured
to gratify the honourable partiality of the public for the encourage-
ment of British art, by illustrating tJiis edition (1829) with designs
by the most eminent living artists.

To my distinguished countryman, David Wilkie, to Edwin
Landseer, who has exercised his talents so much on Scottish subjects
and scenery, to Messrs. Leslie and Newton, my thanks are due,
from a friend as well as an author. Nor am I less obliged to
Messrs. Cooper, Kidd, and other artists of distinction to whom I am
less personally known, for the ready zeal with which they have
devoted their talents to the same purpose.

Further explanation respecting the Edition is the business of the
publishers, not of the Author ; and here, therefore, the latter has
accomplished his task of Introduction and explanation.* If, like a
spoiled child, he has sometimes abused or trifled with the indulgence
of the public, he feels himself entitled to full belief, when he excul-
pates himself from the charge of having been at any time insensible
of their kindness.

Abbotsford, 1st Janwiry 1829.

* The publication of Waverley, see Note, p. 495.

INTKODUOTION.

(1829.)

The plan of this Edition leads me to insert in this place * some account
of the incidents on which the Novel of Waverley is founded. They
have been already given to the public by my late lamented friend
William Erskine, Esq. (afterwards Lord Kinneder), when reviewing
the Tales of My Landlord for the Quarterly Keview, in 1817. The
particulars were derived by the Critic from the Author's information.
Afterwards they were published in the Preface to the Chronicles of the
Canongate. They are now inserted in their proper place.

Other illustrations of Waverley will be found in the Notes at the
foot of the pages to which they belong. Those which appeared too
long to be so placed are given at the end of the Novel.

» [In the present edition the incidents referred to have been transferred to the
Appendix, vide page 492.]

44f^Uy^ (^,tjtAA^ ^AyU^^A^

INTRODUCTORY.

She title of this work has not been chosen without the
grave and solid deliberation which matters of impor-
tance demand from the prudent. Even its , first, or
general denomination, was the result of no common
research or selection, although, according to the ex-
ample of my predecessors, I had only to seize upon the
most sounding and euphonic surname that English history or
topography affords, and elect it at once as the title of my work,
and the name of my hero. But alas ! what could my readers have
expected from the chivalrous epithets of Howard, Mordaunt,
Mortimer, or Stanley, or from the softer and more sentimental
sounds of Belmour, Belville, Belfield, and Belgrave, but pages
of inanity, similar to those which have been so christened for
half a century past % I must modestly admit I am too diffident
of my own merit to place it in unnecessary opposition to pre-
conceived associations ; I have, therefore, like a maiden knight
with his white shield, assumed for my hero, Waverley, an
uncontaminated name, bearing with its sound little of good or
evil, excepting what the reader shall hereafter be pleased to
affix to it. But my second or supplemental title was a matter
of much more difficult election, since that, short as it is, may
be held as pledging the author to some special mode of laying
his scene, drawing his characters, and managing his adventures.

22

WAVEKLEY NOVELS.

Had I, for example, announced in my frontispiece, " Waverley,
a Tale of other Days," must not every novel-reader have antici-
pated a castle scarce less than that of Udolpho, of which the
eastern wing had long been uninhabited, and the keys either
lost, or consigned to the care of some aged butler or housekeeper,
whose trembling steps, about the middle of the second volume,
were doomed to guide the hero, or heroine, to the ruinous
precincts 1 Would not the owl have shrieked and the cricket
cried in my very title-page 1 and could it have been possible for
me, with a moderate attention to decorum, to introduce any scene
more lively than might be produced by the jocularity of a
clownish but faithful valet, or the garrulous narrative of the
heroine's fille-de-chambre, when rehearsing the stories of blood
and horror which she had heard in the servants' hall 1 Again,
had my title borne " Waverley, a Eomance from the German,"
what head so obtuse as not to image forth a profligate abbot, an
oppressive duke, a secret and mysterious association of Rosy-
crucians and Illuminati, with all their properties of black cowls,
caverns, daggers, electrical machines, trap-doors, and dark-
lanterns 1 Or if I had rather chosen to call my work a " Sen-
timental Tale," would it not have been a sufficient presage of a]
heroine with a profusion of auburn hair, and a harp, the soft]
solace of her solitary hours, which she fortunately finds always
the means of transporting from castle to cottage, although she
herself be sometimes obliged to jump out of a two-pair-of-stairs
window, and is more than once bewildered on her journey,
alone and on foot, without any guide but a blowzy peasant
girl, whose jargon she hardly can understand? Or again, if
my Waverley had been entitled " A Tale of the Times," wouldst
thou not, gentle reader, have demanded from me a dashing
sketch of the fashionable world, a few anecdotes of private
scandal thinly veiled, and if lusciously painted, so much the
better 1 a heroine from Grosvenor Square, and a hero from the
Barouche Club or the Four-in-hand, with a set of subordinate
characters from the elegantes of Queen Anne Street East, or
the dashing heroes of the Bow Street Office ? I could proceed
in proving the importance of a title-page, and displaying at the
same time my own intimate knowledge of the particular ingre-
dients necessary to the cotnposition of romances and novels of
various descriptions : but it is enough, and I scorn to tjTannize
longer over the impatience of my reader, who is doubtless

WAVERLEY. 28

already anxious to know the choice made by an author so pro-
foundly versed in the different branches of his art.

By fixing, then, the date of my story Sixty Years before the
present 1st November 1805, I would have my readers under-
stand, that they will meet in the following pages neither a
romance of chivalry, nor a tale of modern manners ; that my j
hero will neither have iron on his shoulders, as of yore, nor on
the heels of his boots, as is the present fashion of Bond Street;
and that my damsels will neither be clothed " in purple and in
pall," like the Lady Alice of an old ballad, nor reduced to the
primitive nakedness of a modem fashionable at a rout. From
this my choice of an era the understanding critic may farther
presage, that the object of my_tale is more a .deacription of men i^j — •
than manners. A tale of manners, to be interesting, must
either reJeFlo antiquity so great as to have become venerable,
or it must bear a vivid reflection of those scenes which are
passing daily before our eyes, and are interesting from their
novelty. Thus the coat-of-mail of our ancestors, and the triple-
furred pelisse of our modern beaux, may, though for very
different reasons, be equally fit for the array of a fictitious
character; but who, meaning the costume of his hero to be
impressive, would willingly attire him in the court dress of
George the Second's reign, with its no collar, large sleeves, and
low pocket-holes % The same may be urged, with equal truth,
of the Gothic hall, which, with its darkened and tinted win-
dows, its elevated and gloomy roof, and massive oaken table
garnished with boar's-head and rosemary, pheasants and pea-
cocks, cranes and cygnets, has an excellent effect in fictitious
description. Much may also be gained by a lively display of a
modern fete, such as we have daily recorded in that part of a
newspaper entitled the Mirror of Fashion, if we contrast these,
or either of them, with the splendid fonnality of an entertain-
ment given Sixty Years since ; and thus it will be readily seen
how much the painter of antique or of fashionable manners
gains over him who delineates those of the last generation.

Considering the disadvantages inseparable from this part of
my subject, I must be understood to have resolved to avoid
them as much as possible, by throwing the force of my narrative
upon the characters and passions of the actors ; — those passions
common to men in all stages of society, and which have alike
agitated the human heait, whether it throbbed under the steel

24 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

corslet of the fifteenth century, the brocaded coat of the
eighteenth, or the blue frock and white dimity waistcoat oi
the present day.* Upon these passions it is no doubt true that
the state of manners and laws casts a necessary colouring ; but
the bearings, to use the language of heraldry, remain the same,
though the tinctui-e may be not only different, but opposed in
strong contradistinction. The wrath of our ancestors, for ex-
ample, was coloured gules ; it broke forth in acts of open and
sanguinary violence against the objects of its fmy. Our ma-
lignant feelings, which must seek gratification through more
indirect channels, and undermine the obstacles which they can-
not openly bear down, may be rather said to be tinctured sable.
But the deep-ruling impulse is the same in both cases ; and the
proud peer who can now only ruin his neighbour according to
law, by protracted suits, is the genuine descendant of the baron
who wrapped the castle of his competitor in flames, and knocked
him on the head as he endeavoured to escape from the confla-
gration. It is from the great book of Nature, the same through
a thousand editions, whether of black-letter, or wire-wove and
hot-pressed, that I have venturously essayed to read a chapter
to the public. Some favourable opportunities of contrast have
been afibrded me, by the state of society in the northern part
of the island at the period of my history, and may serve at once
to vary and to illustrate the moral lessons, which I would
willingly consider as the most important part of my plan;
although I am sensible how short these will fall of their aim,
if I shall be found unable to mix them with amusement, — a
task not quite so easy in this critical generation as it was
" Sixty Years since."

* Alas I that attire, respectable and gentlemanlike in 1805, or there-
abouts, is now as antiquated as the Author of Waverley has himself become
since that period ! The reader of fashion will please to fiU up the costume
with an embroidered waistcoat of purple velvet or silk, and a coat of what-
ever coloiir he pleases.

WAVERLEY. 26

CHAPTER SECOND.

WAVEELEY-HONOUE. — A EETEOSPECT.

It is, then, sixty years since* Edward Waverley, the hero of
the following pages, took leave of his family, to join the regi-
ment of dragoons in which he had lately obtained a commission.
It was a melancholy day at Waverley-Honour when the young
officer parted with Sir Everard, the affectionate old uncle to
whose title and estate he was presumptive heir.

A difference in political opinions had early separated the »

Baronet from his younger brother Richard Waverley, the father j.^^ji:J^
of our hero. Sir Everard had inlierited from his sires the whole-'**
train of Tory or High-Church predilections and prejudices,
which had distinguished the house of Waverley since the
Great Civil War. Richard, on the contrary, who was ten years
younger, beheld himself bom to the fortime of a second brother,
and anticipated neither dignity nor entertainment in sustaining
the character of Will Wimble. He saw early, that, to succeed
in the race of life, it was necessary he should carry as little
weight as possible. Painters talk of the difficulty of expressing
the existence of compound passions in the same features at the
same moment : it would be no less difficult for the moralist to
analyze the mixed motives which imite to form the impulse of
our actions. Richard Waverley read and satisfied himself, from
history and sound argimient, that, in the words of the old song,

Passive obedience was a jest,
And pshaw ! was non-resistance ;

yet reason would have probably been unable to combat and
remove hereditary prejudice, could Richard have anticipated
that his elder brother. Sir Everard, taking to heart an early
disappointment, would have remaiaed a- bachelor at seventy-two.
The prospect of succession, however remote, might in that case
have led him to endure dragging through the greater part of his
life as " Master Richard at the Hall, the baronet's brother," in
the hope that ere its conclusion he should be distinguished as
Sir Richard Waverley of Waverley-Honour, successor to a

* The precise date (1745) was withheld from the original edition, lest it
should anticipate the natiire of the tale by announcing so remarkable on era

<5.^"^(

26 WAVERLEY KOVELS.

princely estate, and to extended political connections as head
of the county interest in the shire where it lay. But this was
a consummation of things not to be expected at Richard's outset,
when Sir Everard was in the prime of life, and certain to be
an acceptable suitor in almost any family, whether wealth or
beauty should be the object of his pursuit, and when, indeed,
his speedy marriage was a report which regularly amused the
neighbourhood once a-year. His younger brother saw no practic-
able road to independence save that of relying upon his own
exertions, and adopting a political creed more consonant both to
reason and his own interest than the hereditary faith of Sir
Everard in High-Church and in the house of Stewart. He
^Oj therefore read his recantation at the beginning of his career,
and entered life as an avowed Whig, and friend of the Hanover
succession.

The ministry of George the First's time were prudently an-
xious to diminish the phalanx of opposition. The Tory nobility,
depending for their reflected lustre upon the sunshine of a court,
had for some time been gradually reconciling themselves to the
new dynasty. But the wealthy country gentlemen of England,
a rank which retained, with much of ancient manners and
primitive integrity, a great proportion of obstinate and unyield-
ing prejudice, stood aloof in haughty and sullen opposition, and
cast many a look of mingled regret and hope to Bois le Due,
Avignon, and Italy.* The accession of the near relation of one
of those steady and inflexible opponents was considered as a
means of bringing over more converts, and therefore Richard
Waverley met with a share of ministerial favour, more than
proportioned to his talents or his political importance. It was,
however, discovered that he had respectable talents for public
business, and the first admittance to the minister's levee being
negotiated, his success became rapid. Sir Everard learned from
the public News-Letter, — first, that Richard Waverley, Esquire,
was returned for the ministerial borough of Barterfaith ; next, that
Richard Waverley, Esquire, had taken a distinguished part in the
debate upon the Excise bill in the support of government ; and,
lastly, that Richard Waverley, Esquire, had been honoured with
a seat at one of those boards, where the pleasure of serving the

* Where the Chevalier Saint George, or, as he was termed, the Old Pre-
tender, held his exiled court, as his situation compelled him to shift bis
place of residence.

WAVERLEY. 8T

oountry is combined with other important gratifications, which, to
render them the more acceptable, occur regularly once a quarter.

Although these events followed each other so closely that the
sagacity of the editor of a modem newspaper would have pre-
saged the last two even while he announced the first, yet they
came upon Sir Everard gradually, and drop by drop, as it were,
distilled through the cool and procrastinating alembic of Dyer's
Weekly Letter.* For it may be observed in passing, that in-
stead of those mail-coaches, by means of which every mechanic
at his sixpenny club may nightly learn from twenty contradic-
tory channels the yesterday's news of the capital, a weekly post
brought, in those days, to Waverley-Honour, a Weekly Intelli-
gencer, which, after it had gratified Sir Everard's curiosity, his
sister's, and that of his aged butler, was regularly transferred
from the Hall to the Rectory, from the Rectory to Squire
Stubbs' at the Grange, from the Squire to the Baronet's steward
at his neat white house on the heath, from the steward to the
bailiff, and from him through a huge circle of honest dames and
gaffers, by whose hard and homy hands it was generally worn
to pieces in about a month after its anival.

This slow succession of intelligence was of some advantage to
Richard Waverley in the case before us ; for, had the sum total
of his enormities reached the ears of Sir Everard at once, there
can be no doubt that the new commissioner would have had
little reason to pique himself on the success of his politics. The
Baronet, although the mildest of himian beings, was not with-
out sensitive points in his character ; his brother's conduct had
wounded these deeply ; the Waverley estate was fettered by no
entail (for it had never entered into the head of any of its
former possessors that one of their progeny coidd be guilty of
the atrocities laid by Dyer's Letter to the door of Richard), and
if it had, the marriage of the proprietor might have been fatal
to a collateral heir. These various ideas floated through the
brain of Sir Everard, without, however, producing any deter-
mined conclusion.

He examined the tree of his genealogy, which, emblazoned

* Long tlie oracle of the country gentlemen of the high Tory party. The
ancient News-Letter was written in manuscript and copied by clerks, who
addressed the copies to the subscribers. The politician by whom they were
compiled picked up his intelligence at coffee-houses, and often pleaded for
an additional gratuity, in consideration of the extra expense attached to.
Trcquenting such places of fashionable resoi-t.

28 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

with many an emblematic mark of honour and heroic achieve-
ment, hung upon the well-vamished wainscot of his hall. The
nearest descendants of Sir Hildebrand Waverley, failing those
of his eldest son "Wilfred, of whom Sir Everard and his brother
were the only representatives, were, as this honoured register
informed him (and, indeed, as he himself well knew), the
Waverleys of Highley Park, com. Hants ; with whom the main
branch, or rather stock, of the house had renounced all con-
nexion, since the great lawsuit in 1670.

This degenerate scion had committed a farther offence against
the head and source of their gentility, by the intermarriage of
their representative with Judith, heiress of Oliver Bradshawe,
of Highley Park, whose arms, the same with those of Bradshawe,
the regicide, they had quartered with the ancient coat of Waver-
ley. These offences, however, had vanished from Sir Everard's
recollection in the heat of his resentment; and had Lawyer
Clippurse, for whom his groom was despatched express, arrived
but an hour earlier, he might have had the benefit of drawing
a new set1:lement of the lordship and manor of Waverley
Honour, with all its dependencies. But an hour of cool reflec-
tion is a great matter, when employed in weighing the compara-
tive evil of two measures, to neither of which we are internally
partial. Lawyer Clippurse found his patron involved in a deep
study, which he was too respectful to disturb, otherwise than by
producing his paper and leathern ink-case, as prepared to minute
his honour's commands. Even this slight manoeuvre was em-
barrassing to Sir Everard, who felt it as a reproach to his
indecision. He looked at the attorney with some desire to issue
his fiat, when the sun, emerging from behind a cloud, poured at
once its chequered light through the stained window of the
gloomy cabinet in which they were seated. The Baronet's eye,
as he raised it to the splendour, fell right upon the central
scutcheon, impressed with the same device whicli his ancestor
was said to have borne in the field of Hastings ; three ermines
passant, argent, in a field azure, with its appropriate motto,
Sans tache. "May our name rather perish," exclaimed Sir
Everard, " than that ancient and loyal symbol should be blended
with the dishonoured insignia of a traitorous Roundhead ! "

All this was the effect of the glimpse of a sunbeam, just suffi-
cient to light Lawyer Clippurse to mend his pen. The pen was
mended in vain. The attorney was dismissed, witli dii'ectione
to bold liimself in readiness on the first summons.

WAVERLEY. 29'

The apparition of Lawyer Clippurse at the Hall occasioned
much speculation in that portion of the world to which Waver-
ley-Honour formed the centre ; but the more judicious politicians
of this microcosm augured yet worse consequences to Richard
Waverley from a movement which shortly followed his apostasy.
This was no less than an excursion of the Baronet in his coach-
and-six, with four attendants in rich liveries, to make a visit of
some duration to a noble peer on the confines of the shire, of
untainted descent, steady Tory principles, and the happy father
of six unmarried and accomplished daughters.

Sir Everard's reception in this family was, as it may be easily
conceived, sufficiently favourable ; but of the six young ladies,
his taste unfortunately determined him in favour of Lady Emily,
the youngest, who received his attentions with an embarrassment
which shewed at once that she durst not decline them, and that
they afibrded her anything but pleasure.

Sir Everard could not but perceive something uncommon in
the restrained emotions which the young lady testified at the
advances he hazarded; but assured by the prudent Countess
that they were the natural eff'ects of a retired education, the
sacrifice might have been completed, as doubtless has happened
in many similar instances, had it not been for the courage of an
elder sister, who revealed to the wealthy suitor that Lady
Emily's affections were fixed upon a young soldier of fortune, a
near relation of her own. Sir Everard manifested great emotion
on receiving this intelligence, which was confirmed to him, in a
private interview, by the young lady herself, although under
the most dreadful apprehensions of her father's indignation.

Honour and generosity were hereditary attributes of the
house of Waverley. With a grace and delicacy worthy the
hero of a romance. Sir Everard withdrew his claim to the hand
of Lady Emily. He had even, before leaving Blandeville Castle,
the address to extort from her father a consent to her union
with the object of her choice. What arguments he used on
this point cannot exactly be known, for Sir Everard was never
supposed strong in the powers of persuasion; but the young
oflicer, immediately after this transaction, rose in the army with
a rapidity far surpassing the usual pace of unpatronized pro-
fessional merit, although, to outward appearance, that was all
he had to depend upon.

The shock which Sir Everard encountered upon this occasion,

30 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

although dimiQished by the consciousness of having acted vir-
tuously and generously, had its effect upon his future life. Hia
resolution of marriage had been adopted in a fit of indignation ;
the labour of courtship did not quite suit the dignified indolence
of his habits ; he had but just escaped the risk of marrying a
woman who could never love him ; and his pride could not be
greatly flattered by the termination of his amour, even if his
heart had not suffered. The result of the whole matter was his
return to Waverley-Honour without any transfer of his affec-
tions, notwithstanding the sighs and languishments of the fair
tell-tale, who had revealed, in mere sisterly affection, the secret
of Lady Emily's attachment, and in despite of the nods, winks,
and inuendoes of the officious lady mother, and the grave
eulogiums which the Earl pronounced successively on the pru-
dence, and good sense, and admirable dispositions, of his first,
second, third, fourth, and fifth daughters. The memory of his
unsuccessful amour was with Sir Everard, as with many more
of his temper, at once shy, proud, sensitive, and indolent, a
beacon against exposing himself to similar mortification, pain,
and fruitless exertion for the time to come. He continued to
live at Waverley-Honour in the style of an old English gentle-
man of an ancient descent and opulent fortune. His sister,
Miss Rachel Waverley, presided at his table , and they became,
by degrees, an old bachelor and an ancient maiden lady, the
gentlest and kindest of the votaries of celibacy.

The vehemence of Sir Everard's resentment against his
brother was but short-lived ; yet his dislike to the Whig and
the placeman, though unable to stimulate him to resume any
active measures prejudicial to Richard's interest in the succes-
sion to the family estate, continued to maintain the coldness
between them. Richard knew enough of the world, and of his
brother's temper, to believe that by any ill-considered or preci-
pitate advances on his part he might turn passive dislike into
a more active principle. It was accident, therefore, which at
length occasioned a renewal of their intercourse. Richard had
married a young woman of rank, by whose family interest and
private fortune he hoped to advance his career. In her right
he became possessor of a manor of some value at the distance
of a few miles from Waverley-Honour.

Little Edward, the hero of our tale, then in his fifth year,
was their only child. It chanced that the infant with his maid

WAVERLEY. 31

hud strayed one morning to a mile's distance from the avenue
of Brerewood Lodge, his father's seat. Their attention was
attracted by a carriage drawn by six stately long-tailed black
horses, and with as much carving and gilding as would have
done honour to my lord mayor's. It was waiting for the owner,
who was at a little distance inspecting the progress of a half-
built farm-house. I know not whether the boy's nurse had been
a Welsh or a Scotch woman, or in what manner he associated a
shield emblazoned with three ermines with the idea of personal
property, but he no sooner beheld this family emblem than he
stoutly determined on vindicating his right to the splendid
vehicle on which it was displayed. The Baronet arrived while
the boy's maid was in vain endeavouring to make him desist
from his determination to appropriate the gilded coach-and-six.
The rencontre was at a happy moment for Edward, as his uncle
had been just eyeing wistfully, with something of a feeling like
envy, the chubby boys of the stout yeoman whose mansion was
building by his direction. In the round-faced rosy cherub
before him, bearing his eye and his name, and vindicating a
hereditary title to his family affection and patronage, by means
of a tie which Sir Everard held as sacred as either Garter or
Blue Mantle, Providence seemed to have granted to him the
very object best calculated to fill up the void in his hopes and
affections. Sir Everard returned to Waverley Hall upon a led
horse which was kept in readiness for him, while the child and
his attendant were sent home in the carriage to Brerewood
Lodge with such a message as opened to Richard Waverley a
door of reconciliation with his elder brother.

Their intercourse, however, though thus renewed, continued
to be rather formal and civil than partaking of brotherly cor-
diality ; yet it was sufficient to the wishes of both parties. Sir
Everard obtained, in the frequent society of his little nephew,
something on which his hereditary pride might found the anti-
cipated pleasure of a continuation of his lineage, and where his
kind and gentle affections could at the same time fully exercise
themselves. For Richard Waverley, he beheld in the growing
attachment between the uncle and nephew the means of secur-
ing his son's, if not his own, succession to the hereditary estate,
which he felt would be rather endangered than promoted by any
attempt on his own part towards a closer intimacy with a mao
of Sir Everard's habits and opinionfi.

82 WAVERLEY NOVELS

Thus, by a sort of tacit compromise, little Edward was per-
mitted to pass the greater part of the year at the Hall, and
appeared to stand in the same intimate relation to both families,
although their mutual intercourse was otherwise limited to
formal messages and more formal visits. The education of the
youth was regulated alternately by the taste and opinions of
his uncle and of his father. But more of this in a subsequent
chapter.

CHAPTER THIRD.

EDUCATION.

The education of our hero, Edward Waverley, was of a nature
somewhat desultory. In infancy, his health suffered, or was
supposed to suffer (which is quite the same thing), by the air of
London. As soon, therefore, as official duties, attendance on
Parliament, or the prosecution of any of his plans of interest
or ambition, called his father to town, which was his usual
residence for eight months in the year, Edward was transferred
to Waverley-Honour, and experienced a total change of in-
structors and of lessons, as well as of residence. This might
have been remedied, had his father placed him under the super-
intendence of a permanent tutor. But he considered that one of
his choosing would probably have been unacceptable at Waverley-
Honour, and that such a selection as Sir Everard might have
made, were the matter left to him, would have burdened him
with a disagreeable inmate, if not a political spy, in his family.
He therefore prevailed upon his private secretary, a young man
of taste and accomplishments, to bestow an hour or two on
Edward's education while at Brerewood Lodge, and left his
imcle answerable for his improvement in literature while an
inmate at the Hall.

This was in some degree respectably provided for. Sir Eve-
rard's chaplain, an Oxonian, who had lost his fellowship for
declining to take the oaths at the accession of George I., was
not only an excellent classical scholar, but reasonably skilled in
science, and master of most modem languages. He was, how-
ever, old and indulgent, and the recurring interregnum, during
which Edward was entirely freed from his discipline, occasioned

WAVERLEY. »8

sucli a relaxation of authority, that the youth was permitted, in
a great measure, to leam as he pleased, what he pleased, and
when he pleased. This slackness of rule might have been ruinous
to a boy of slow understanding, who, feeling labour in the acqui-
sition of kjiowledge, would have altogether neglected it, save for
the command of a task-master ; and it might have proved equally
dangerous to a youth whose animal spirits were more powerful
than his imagination or his feelings, and whom the irresistible
influence of Alma would have engaged in field sports from morning
till night. But the character of Edward Waverley was remote
from either of these. His powers of apprehension were so un-
commonly quick, as almost to resemble intuition, and the chief
care of his preceptor was to prevent him, as a sportsman would
phrase it, from overrunning his game, that is, from acquiring his
knowledge in a slight, flimsy, and inadequate manner. And
here the instructor had to combat another propensity too often
united with brilliancy of fancy and vivacity of talent, — that in-
dolence, namely, of disposition, which can only be stirred by
some strong motive of gratification, and which renounces study
as soon as curiosity is gratified, the pleasure of conquering the
first difficulties exhausted, and the novelty of pursuit at an end.
Edward would throw himself with spirit upon any classical
author of which his preceptor proposed the perusal, make him-
self master of the style so far as to understand the story, and if
that pleased or interested him, he finished the volmne. But it
was in vain to attempt fixing his attention on critical distinc-
tions of philology, upon the difference of idiom, the beauty of
felicitous expression, or the artificial combinations of syntax.
" I can read and understand a Latin author," said young Edward,
with the self-confidence and rash reasoning of fifteen, "and
Scaliger or Bentley could not do much more." Alas ! while he
was thus permitted to read only for the gratification of his
amusement, he foresaw not that he was losing for ever the op--
portimity of acquiring habits of fii'm and assiduous application,
of gaining the art of controlling, directing, and concentrating
the powers of his mind for earnest investigation, — an art far
more essential than even that intimate acquaintance with
classical learning, which is the primary object of study.

I am aware I may be here reminded of the necessity of ren-
dering instraction agreeable to youth, and of Tasso's infusion of
honey into the medicine prepared for a child; but an age in

VOL. I. D

34

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

which children are taught the driest doctrines by the insinuat-
ing method of instructive games, has little reason to dread the
consequences of study being rendered too serious or severe.
The history of England is now reduced to a game at cards, —
the problems of mathematics to puzzles and riddles, — and the
doctrines of arithmetic may, we are assured, be sufficiently ac-
quired, by spending a few hours a-week at a new and complicated
edition of the Royal Game of the Goose. There wants but one
step further, and the Creed and Ten Commandments may be
taught in the same manner, without the necessity of the grave
face, deliberate tone of recital, and devout attention, hitherto
exacted from the well-governed childhood of this realm. It
may, in the meantime, be subject of serious consideration,
whether those who are accustomed only to acquire instruction
through the medium of amusement, may not be brought to
reject that which approaches under the aspect of study;
whether those who learn history by the cards, may not be led
to prefer the means to the end; and whether, were we to
teach religion in the way of sport, our pupils may not thereby
be gradually induced to make sport of their religion. To our
young hero, who was permitted to seek his instruction only
according to the bent of his own mind, and who, of consequence,
only sought it so long as it afforded him amusement, the in-
dulgence of his tutors was attended with evil consequences, which
long continued to influence his character, happiness, and utility.
Edward's power of imagination and love of literature, although
the former was vivid, and the latter ardent, were so far from
affording a remedy to this peculiar evil, that they rather in-
flamed and increased its violence. The library at Waverley-
Honour, a large Gothic room, with double arches and a gallery,
contained such a miscellaneous and extensive collection oif
volumes as had been assembled together, during the course of
two hundred years, by a family which had been always wealthy,
and inclined, of course, as a mark of splendour, to furnish their
shelves with the current literature of the day, without much
scrutiny, or nicety of discrimination. Throughout this ample
realm Edward was permitted to roam at large. His tutor had
his own studies ; and church politics and controversial divinity,
together with a love of learned ease, though they did not with-
draw his attention at stated times from the progress of his
patron's presumptive heir, induced him readily to grasp at any

WAVERLEY. 36

apology for not extending a strict and regulated survey towards
his general studies. Sir Everard had never been himself a
student, and, like his sister Miss Rachel Waverley, he held the
common doctrine, that idleness is incompatible with reading of
any kind, and that the mere tracing the alphabetical characters
with the eye is in itself a useful and meritorious task, without
scrupulously considering what ideas or doctrines they may
happen to convey. With a desire of amusement, therefore,
which better discipline might soon have converted into a thirst
for knowledge, young Waverley drove through the sea of books,
like a vessel without a pilot or a rudder. Nothing perhaps . .

increases by indulgence more than a desultory habit of reading, Ox ^£>OAVj
especially under such opportunities of gratifying it. I believe one
reason why such numerous instances of erudition occur among
the lower ranks is, that, with the same powers of mind, the
poor student is limited to a narrow circle for indulging his
passion for books, and must necessarily make himself master of
the few he possesses ere he can acquire more. Edward, on the
contrary, like the epicure who only deigned to take a single
morsel from the sunny side of a peach, read no volume a moment
after it ceased to excite his curiosity or interest ; and it neces-
sarily happened, that the habit of seeking only this sort of
gratification rendered it daily more difficult of attainment, till
the passion for reading, like other strong appetites, produced
by indulgence a sort of satiety.

Ere he attained this indifference, however, he had read, and
stored in a memory of uncommon tenacity, much curious,
though ill-arranged and miscellaneous information. In English
literature he was master of Shakspeare and Milton, of our earlier
dramatic authors ; of many picturesque and interesting passages
from our old historical chronicles ; and was particularly well
acquainted with Spenser, Drayton, and other poets who have
exercised themselves on romantic fiction, of all themes the most
fascinating to a youthful imagination, before the passions have
roused themselves, and demand poetry of a more sentimental
description. In this respect his acquaintance with Italian
opened him yet a wider range. He had perused the numerous
romantic poems, which, from the days of Pulci, have been a
favourite exercise of the wits of Italy ; and had sought gratifi-
cation in the numerous collections of novelle, which were brought
forth by the genius of that elegant though luxurious nation, in

36 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

emidatiou of the Decameron. In classical literature, Waverley
had made the usual progress, and read the usual authors ; and
the French had afforded him an almost exhaustless collection of
memoirs, scarcely more faithful than romances, and of romances
80 well written as hardly to be distinguished from memoirs.
The splendid pages of Froissart, with his heart-stirring and eye-
dazzling descriptions of war and of tournaments, were among
his chief favourites ; and from those of Brantome and de la
Noue he learned to compare the wild and loose yet supersti-
tious character of the nobles of the League, with the stern,
rigid, and sometimes turbulent disposition of the Huguenot
party. The Spanish had contributed to his stock of chivalrous
and romantic lore. The earlier literature of the northern na-
tions did not escape the study of one who read rather to
awaken the imagination than to benefit the understanding. And
yet, knowing much that is known but to few, Edward Waver-
ley might justly be considered as ignorant, since he knew little
of what adds dignity to man, and qualifies him to support and
adorn an elevated situation in society.

The occasional attention of his parents might indeed have
been of service, to prevent the dissipation of mind incidental to
such a desultory course of reading. But his mother died in the
seventh year after the reconciliation between the brothers, and
Kichard Waverley himself, who, after this event, resided more
constantly in London, was too much interested in his own plans
of wealth and ambition, to notice more respecting Edward,
than that he was of a very bookish turn, and probably destined
to be a bishop. If he could have discovered and analyzed his
son's waking dreams, he would have formed a very different
conclusion.

CHAPTER FOURTH.

CASTLE-BUILDINQ.

I HAVE already hinted, that the dainty, squeamish, and fas-
tidious taste acquired by a surfeit of idle reading, had not only
rendered our hero unfit for serious and sober study, but had
even disgusted him in some degree with that in which he had
hitherto indulged.

WAVERLEF. 37

He was in his sixteenth year, when his habits of abstraction
and love of solitude became so much marked, as to excite Sir
Everard's affectionate apprehension. He tried to counterba-
lance these propensities, by engaging his nephew in field sports,
which had been the chief pleasure of his own youthful days.
But although Edward eagerly carried the gun for one season,
yet when practice had given him some dexterity, the pastime
ceased to afford him amusement.

In the succeeding spring, the perusal of old Isaac Walton's
fascinating volume determined Edward to become " a brother
of the angle." But of all diversions which ingenuity ever de-
vised for the relief of idleness, fishing is the worst qualified to
amuse a man who is at once indolent and impatient ; and our
hero's rod was speedily flung aside. Society and example,
which, more than any other motives, master and sway the
natural bent of our passions, might have had their usual effect
upon the youthful visionary ; but the neighbourhood was thinly
inhabited, and the home-bred young squires whom it afforded,
were not of a class fit to form Edward's usual companions, far
less to excite him to emulation in the practice of those pastimes
which composed the serious business of their lives.

There were a few other youths of better education, and a
more liberal character ; but from their society also our hero was
in some degree excluded. Sir Everard had, upon the death of
Queen Anne, resigned his seat in Parliament, and, as his age
increased and the number of his contemporaries diminished,
had gradually withdrawn himself from society ; so that when,
upon any particular occasion, Edward mingled with accom-
plished and well-educated young men of his own rank and ex-
pectations, he felt an inferiority in their company, not so much
from deficiency of information, as from the want of skill to
command and to arrange that which he possessed. A deep and
increasing sensibility added to this dislike of society. The idea
of having committed the slightest solecism in politness, whether
real or imaginary, was agony to him ; for perhaps even guilt
itself does not impose upon some minds so keen a sense of
shame and remorse, as a modest, sensitive, and inexperienced
youth feels from the consciousness of having neglected etiquettd^
or excited ridicule. Where we are not at ease, we cannot be\
happy ; and therefore it is not siurprising, that Edward Waver- j
ley supposed that he disliked and was unfitted for society. /

38

WAVEELEY NOVELS.

merely because he had not yet acquired the habit of living in it
with ease and comfort, and of reciprocally giving and receiving
pleasure.

The hours he spent with his uncle and aunt were exhausted
in listening to the oft-repeated tale of narrative old age. Yet
even there his imagination, the predominant faculty of his
mind, was frequently excited. Family tradition and genealo-
gical history, upon which much of Sir Everard's discourse
turned, is the very reverse of amber, which, itself a valuable
substance, usually includes flies, straws, and other trifles;
whereas these studies, being themselves very insignificant and
trifling, do nevertheless serve to perpetuate a great deal of what
is rare and valuable in ancient manners, and to record many
curious and minute facts, which could have been preserved and
conveyed through no other medium. If, therefore, Edward
Waverley yawned at times over the dry deduction of his line
of ancestors, with their various intermarriages, and inwardly
deprecated the remorseless and protracted accuracy with which
the worthy Sir Everard rehearsed the various degrees of propin-
quity between the house of Waverley-Honour, and the doughty
barons, knights, and squires, to whom they stood allied; if
(notwithstanding his obligations to the three ermines passant)
he sometimes cursed in his heart the jargon of heraldry, its
griffins, its moldwarps, its wyverns, and its dragons, with all the
bitterness of Hotspur himself, there were moments when these
communications interested his fancy and rewarded his attention.

The deeds of Wilibert of "Waverley in the Holy Land, his
long absence and perilous adventures, his supposed death, and
his return in the evening when the betrothed of his heart had
wedded the hero who had protected her from insult and oppres-
sion during his absence; the generosity with which the Crusader
relinquished his claims, and sought in a neighbouring cloister
that peace which passeth not away;* — to these and similar
tales he would hearken till his heart glowed and his eye

* There is a family legend to this purpose, belonging to the knightly
family of Bradshaigh, the proprietors of Haighhall, in Lancashire, where,
I have been told, the event is recorded on a painted glass window. The
German ballad of the " Noble Moringer" turns upon a similar topic. But
undoubtedly many such incidents may have taken place, where, the dis-
tance being great, and the intercourse infrequent, false reports concerning
the fate of the absent Crusaders must have been commonly circulated, and
sometimes perhaps rather hastily credited at home.

WAVERLEY. 39

glistened. Nor was he less affected, when his aunt, Mrs.
Rachel, narrated the sufferings and fortitude of Lady Alice
Waverley during the Great Civil War. The benevolent fear
tures of the venerable spinster kindled into more majestic
expression, as she told how Charles had, after the field of
Worcester, found a day's refuge at Waverley-Honour ; and
how, when a troop of cavalry were approaching to search the
mansion, Lady Alice dismissed her youngest son with a handful
of domestics, charging them to make good with their lives an
hoiu-'s diversion, that the king might have that space for escape.
"And, God help her," would Mrs. Rachel continue, fixing her
eyes upon the heroine's portrait as she spoke, " full dearly did
she purchase the safety of her prince with the life of her darling
child. They brought him here a prisoner, mortally wounded ;
and you may trace the drops of his blood from the great hall
door along the little gallery, and up to the saloon, where they
laid him down to die at his mother's feet. But there was
comfort exchanged between them ; for he knew from the glance
of his mother's eye, that the purpose of his desperate defence
was attained. Ah ! I remember," she continued, " I remember
well to have seen one that knew and loved him. Miss Lucy
St, Aubin lived and died a maid for his sake, though one of the
most beautiful and wealthy matches in this country ; all the
world ran after her, but she wore widow's mourning all her life
for poor William, for they were betrothed though not married,

and died in 1 cannot think of the date ; but I remember, in

the November of that very year, when she found herself sink-
ing, she desired to be brought to Waverley-Honour once more,
and visited all the places where she had been with my grand-
uncle, and caused the carpets to be raised that she might trace
the impression of his blood, and if tears could have washed it
out, it had not been there now ; for there was not a dry eye in
the house. You would have thought, Edward, that the very
trees mourned for her, for their leaves dropt around her without
a gust of wind ; and, indeed, she looked like one that would
never see them green again."

From such legends our hero would steal away to indulge the
fancies they excited. In the comer of the large and sombre
library, with no other light than was afforded by the decaying
brands on its ponderous and ample hearth, he would exercise
for hours that internal sorcery, by which past or imaginary

40 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

events are presented in action, as it were, to tlie eye of the
muser. Then arose in long and fair array the splendour of the
bridal feast at Waverley Cattle ; the tall and emaciated form
of its real lord, as he stood in his pilgrim's weeds, an unnoticed
spectator of the festivities of his supposed heir and intended
bride; the electrical shock occasioned by the discovery; the
springing of the vassals to arms; the astonishment of the
bridegroom ; the terror and confusion of the bride ; the agony
with which Wilibert observed that her heart as well as consent
was in these nuptials ; the air of dignity, yet of deep feeling,
with which he flung down the half-drawn sword, and turned
away for ever from the house of his ancestors. Then would he
change the scene, and fancy would at his wish represent Aunt
Rachel's tragedy. He saw the Lady Waverley seated in her
bower, her ear strained to every sound, her heart throbbing
with double agony, now listening to the decaying echo of the
hoofs of the king's horse, and when that had died away, hearing
in every breeze that shook the trees of the park, the noise of the
remote skirmish. A distant sound is heard like the rushing of
a swoln stream ; it comes nearer, and Edward can plainly dis-
tinguish the galloping of horses, the cries and shouts of men,
with straggling pistol-shots between, rolling forwards to the
hall. The lady starts up — a terrified menial rushes in — but
why pursue such a description 1

As living in this ideal world became daily more delectable
to our hero, interruption was disagreeable in proportion. The
extensive domain that surrounded the Hall, which, far exceed-
ing the dimensions of a park, was usually termed Waverley
Chase, had originally been forest ground, and still, though
broken by extensive glades, in which the young deer were
sporting, retained its pristine and savage character. It was
traversed by broad avenues, in many places half grown up with
brush-wood, where the beauties of former days used to take
their stand to see the stag coursed with greyhounds, or to gain
an aim at him with the cross-bow. In one spot, distinguished
by a moss-grown Gothic monument, which retained the name
of Queen's Standing, Elizabeth herself was said to have pierced
seven bucks with her own arrows. This was a very favourite
haunt of Waverley. At other times, with his gun and his
spaniel, which served as an apology to others, and with a book
in his pocket, which perhaps served as an apology to himself.

WAVERLEY. 41

he used to pursue one of these long avenues, which, after an
ascendmg sweep of four miles, gradually narrowed into a rude
and contracted path through the cliffy and woody pass called
Mirkwood Dingle, and opened suddenly upon a deep, dark,
and small lake, named, from the same cause, Mirkwood Mere.
There stood, in former times, a solitary tower upon a rock
almost surrounded by the water, which had acquired the name
of the Strength of Waverley, because, in perilous times, it had
often been the refuge of the family. There, in the wars of York
and Lancaster, the last adherents of the Red Rose who dared
to maintain her cause, carried on a harassing and predatory war-
fare, till the stronghold was reduced by the celebrated Richard
of Gloucester. Here, too, a party of cavaliers long maintained
themselves under Nigel Waverley, elder brother of that William
whose fate Aunt Rachel commemorated. Through these scenes
it was that Edward loved to " chew the cud of sweet and bitter
fancy," and, like a child among his toys, culled and arranged,
from the splendid yet useless imagery and emblems with which
his imagination was stored, visions as brilliant and as fading
as those of an evening sky. The effect of this indulgence upon
his temper and character will appear in the next chapter.

CHAPTER FIFTH.

CHOICE OF A PROFESSION.

From the minuteness with which I have traced Waverley's
pursuits, and the bias which these unavoidably communicated
to his imagination, the reader may perhaps anticip^Jie, in the -^
following tale, an imitation of the romance of(Cervant^. But ^lQ^
he will do my prudence injustice in the siipposition. My
intention is not to follow the steps of that inimitable author,
in describing such total perversion of intellect as misconstrues
the objects actually presented to the senses, but that more
common aberration from sound judgment, which apprehends
occurrences indeed in their reality, but communicates to them a
tincture of its own romantic tone and colouring. So far was
Edward Waverley from expecting general sympathy with his
own feelings, or concluding that the present state of things was

42 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

calculated to exhibit the reality of those visions in which he
loved to indulge, that he dreaded nothing more than the de-
tection of such sentiments as were dictated by his musings.
He neither had nor wished to have a confidant, with whom to
communicate his reveries ; and so sensible was he of the ridicule
attached to them, that, had he been to choose between any
punishment short of ignominy, and the necessity of giving a
cold and composed account of the ideal world in which he lived
the better part of his days, I think he would not have hesitated
to prefer the former infliction. This secrecy became doubly
precious, as he felt in advancing life the influence of the
awakening passions. Female forms of exquisite grace and
beauty began to mingle in his mental adventures ; nor was he
long without looking abroad to compare the creatures of his
own imagination with the females of actual life.

The list of the beauties who displayed their hebdomadal finery
at the parish church of Waverley was neither numerous nor
select. By far the most passable was Miss Sissly, or, as she
rather chose to be called. Miss Cecilia Stubbs, daughter of
Squire Stubbs at the Grange. I know not whether it was by
the " merest accident in the world," a phrase which, from female
lips, does not always exclude malice prepense, or whether it was
from a conformity of taste, that Miss Cecilia more than once
crossed Edward in his favourite walks through Waverley-Chase.
He had not as yet assumed courage to accost her on these occa-
sions ; but the meeting was not without its efiect. A romantic
lover is a strange idolater, who sometimes cares not out of what
log he frames the object of his adoration ; at least, if nature
has given that object any passable proportion of personal charms,
he can easily play the Jeweller and Dervise in the Oriental
tale,* and supply her richly, out of the stores of his own imagin-
ation, with supernatural beauty, and all the properties of intel-
lectual wealth.

But ere the charms of Miss Cecilia Stubbs had erected her
into a positive goddess, or elevated her at least to a level with
the saint her namesake, Mrs. Rachel Waverley gained some
intimation which determined her to prevent the approaching
apotheosis. Even the most simple and unsuspicious of the
female sex have (God bless them !) an instinctive sharpness of
perception in such matters, which sometimes goes the length
* See Hoppner's Tale of The Seven Lovers.

WAVERLEY. 43

of observing partialities that never existed, but rarely misses to
detect such as pass actually under their observation. Mrs.
Rachel applied herself with great prudence, not to combat, but
to elude the approaching danger, and suggested to her brother
the necessity that the heir of his house should see something
more of the world than was consistent with constant residence
at Waverley-Honour.

Sir Everard would not at first listen to a proposal which went
to separate his nephew from him. Edward was a little bookish,
he admitted, but youth, he had always heard, was the season for
learning, and, no doubt, when his rage for letters was abated,
and his head fully stocked with knowledge, his nephew would
take to field sports and country business. He had often, he
said, himself regretted that he had not spent some time in study
during his youth : he would neither have shot nor hunted with
less skill, and he might have made the roof of St. Stephen's echo
to longer orations than were comprised in those zealous Noes
with which, when a member of the House during Godolphin's
administration, he encoimtered every measure of government.

Aunt Rachel's anxiety, however, lent her address to carry her
point. Every representative of their house had visited foreign
parts, or served his country in the army, before he settled for
life at Waverley-Honour, and she appealed for the truth of her
assertion to the genealogical pedigree, an authority which Sir
Everard was never known to contradict. In short, a proposal
was made to Mr. Richard Waverley that his son should travel,
under the direction of his present tutor, Mr. Pembroke, with a
suitable allowance from the Baronet's liberality. The father
himself saw no objection to this overture ; but upon mentioning
it casually at the table of the Minister, the great man looked
grave. The reason was explained in private. The unhappy
turn of Sir Everard's politics, the Minister observed, was such
as would render it highly improper that a young gentleman of
such hopeful prospects should travel on the Continent with a
tutor doubtless of his uncle's choosing, and directing his course
by his instructions. What might Mr. Edward Waverley's
society be at Paris, what at Rome, where all manner of snares
were spread by the Pretender and his sons — these were points
for Mr. Waverley to consider. This he could himself say, that
he knew his Majesty had such a just sense of Mr. Richard
Waverley's merits, that if his son adopted the army for a few

44 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

years, a troop, he believed, might be reckoned upon in one of
the dragoon regiments lately returned from Flanders.

A hint thus conveyed and enforced was not to be neglected
with impunity; and Richard Waverley, though with great
dread of shocking his brother's prejudices, deemed he could not
avoid accepting the commission thus offered him for his son.
The truth is, he calculated much, and justly, upon Sir Everard's
fondness for Edward, which made him unlikely to resent any
step that he might take in due submission to parental authority.
Two letters announced this determination to the Baronet and
his nephew. The latter barely communicated the fact, and
pointed out the necessary preparation for joining his regiment.
To his brother, Richard was more diffuse and circuitous. He
coincided with him in the most flattering manner, in the pro-
priety of his son's seeing a little more of the world, and was
even humble in expressions of gratitude for his proposed assist-
ance ; was, however deeply concerned that it was now, unfor-
tunately, not in Edward's power exactly to comply with the
plan which had been chalked out by his best friend and bene-
factor. He himself had thought with pain on the boy's in-
activity, at an age when all his ancestors had borne arms ; even
Royalty itself had deigned to inquire whether young Waverley
was not now in Flanders, at an age when his grandfather was
already bleeding for his king in the Great Civil War. This
was accompanied by an offer of a troop of horse. What could
he do 1 There was no time to consult his brother's inclinations,
even if he could have conceived there might be objections on
his part to his nephew's following the glorious career of his
predecessors. And, in short, that Edward was now (the inter-
mediate steps of cornet and lieutenant being overleapt with
great agility) Captain Waverley of Gardiner's regiment of
dragoons, which he must join in their quarters at Dundee in
Scotland, in the course of a month.

Sir Everard Waverley received this intimation with a mixture
of feelings. At the period of the Hanoverian succession he had
withdrawn from parliament, and his conduct in the memorable
year 1715 had not been altogether unsuspected. There were
reports of private musters of tenants and horses in Waverley-
Chase by moonlight, and of cases of carbines and pistols pur-
chased in Holland, and addressed to the Baronet, but intercepted
by the vigilance of a riding officer of the excise, who was after-

I

WAVERLEY. 45

wards tossed in a blanket on a moonless night by an association
of stout yeomen for his oflBciousness. Nay, it was even said,
that at the arrest of Sir William Wyndham, the leader of the
Tory party, a letter from Sir Everard was found in the pocket
of his night-gown. But there was no overt act which an
attainder could be foimded on ; and government, contented
with suppressing the insurrection of 1715, felt it neither prudent
nor safe to push their vengeance farther than against those
unfortunate gentlemen who actually took up arms.

Nor did Sir Everard's apprehensions of personal consequences
seem to correspond with the reports spread among his Whig
neighbours. It was well known that he had supplied with
money several of the distressed Northumbrians and Scotchmen,
who, after being made prisoners at Preston in Lancashire, were
imprisoned in Newgate and the Marshalsea; and it was his
solicitor and ordinary counsel who conducted the defence of
some of these unfortunate gentlemen at their trial. It was
generally supposed, however, that had ministers possessed any
real proof of Sir Everard's accession to the rebellion, he either
would not have ventured thus to brave the existing government,
or at least would not have done so with impunity. The feelings
which then dictated his proceedings were those of a young man,
and at an agitating period. Since that time Sir Everard's jaco-
bitism had been gradually decaying, like a fire which burns out
for want of fuel. His Tory and High-church principles were
kept up by some occasional exercise at elections and quarter-
sessions ; but those respecting hereditary right were fallen into
a sort of abeyance. Yet it jarred severely upon his feelings,
that his nephew should go into the army under the Bnmswick
dynasty ; and the more so, as, independent of his high and con-
scientious ideas of paternal authority, it was impossible, or at
least highly imprudent, to interfere authoritatively to prevent
it. This suppressed vexation gave rise to many poohs and
pshaws, which were placed to the account of an incipient fit of
gout, until, having sent for the Army List, the worthy Baronet
consoled himself with reckoning the descendants of the houses
of genuine loyalty — Mordaunts, GranviUes, and Stanleys, whose
names were to be found in that military record ; and calling
up all his feelings of family gi'andeur and warlike glory, he
concluded, with logic something like FalstafF's, that when war
was at hand, although it were shame to be on any side but one_

46 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

it were worse shame to be idle than to be on the worst side,
though blacker than usurpation could make it. As for Aunt
Rachel, her scheme had not exactly terminated according to her
wishes, but she was under the necessity of submitting to cir-
cumstances ; and her mortification was diverted by the employ-
ment she found in fitting out her nephew for the campaign, and
greatly consoled by the prospect of beholding him blaze in com-
plete uniform.

Edward Waverley himself received with animated and unde-
fined surprise this most unexpected iatelligence. It was, as a
fine old poem expresses it, "like a fire to heather set," that
covers a solitary hill with smoke, and illumines it at the same
time with dusky fire. His tutor, or, I should say, Mr. Pem-
broke, for he scarce assumed the name of tutor, picked up about
Edward's room some fragments of irregular verse, which he
appeared to have composed under the influence of the agitating
feelings occasioned by this sudden page being turned up to him
in the book of life. The doctor, who was a believer in all
poetry which was composed by his friends, and written out in
fair straight lines, with a capital at the beginning of each,
communicated this treasure to Aunt Rachel, who, with her
spectacles dimmed with tears, transferred them to her common-
place book, among choice receipts for cookery and medicine,
fa-vourite texts, and portions from High-church divines, and a
few songs, amatory and jacobitical, which she had carolled in
her younger days, from whence her nephew's poetical tentcmiina
were extracted, when the volume itself, with other authentic
records of the Waverley family, were exposed to the inspection
of the unworthy editor of this memorable history. If they
afford the reader no higher amusement, they will serve, at least,
better than narrative of any kind, to acquaint him with the
wild and irregular spirit of our hero : —

Late, when the Autumn evening fell So true, so soft, the mirror gave,

On Mirkwood-Mere's romantic dell. As if there lay beneath the wave.

The lake returned, in chastened Secure from trouble, toil, and care,

gleam -^ world than earthly world more
The purple cloud, the golden beam : fair.

Reflected in the crystal pool. But distant winds began to wake.

Headland and bank lay fair and cool ; And roused the Genius of the Lake !

The weather-tinted rock and tower. He heard the groaning of the oak.

Each drooping tree, each fairy flowei'. And donned at once his sable cloak.

WAVERLEY. 47

As warrior, at the battle-cry, And felt my heart more strongly
Invests him with his panoply : bound.

Then as the whirlwind nearer pressed, Responsive to the lofty sound,

He 'gan to shake his foamy crest While, joying in the mighty roar.

O'er furrowed brow and blackened I mourned that tranquil scene no

cheek, more.

And bade his surge in thunder speak. So, on the idle di-eams of youth.

In wild and broken eddies whirled, Breaks the loud trumpet-call of truth,

Flitted that fond ideal world. Bids each fair vision pass away.

And, to the shore in tumult tost, Like landscape on the lake that lay,

The realms of fairy bliss were lost. As fair, as flitting, and as frail,

Yet, with a stern delight and As that which fled the Autumn gale. —

strange. For ever dead to fancy's eye

I saw the spirit-stirring change. Be each gay form that glided by.

As warred the wind with wave and While dreams of love and lady's

wood. charms

Upon the ruined tower I stood. Give place to honour and to arms I

In sober prose, as perhaps these verses intimate less decidedly,
the transient idea of Miss Cecilia Stubbs passed from Captain
VVaverley's heart amid the turmoil which his new destinies
excited. She appeared, indeed, in full splendour in her father's
pew upon the Sunday when he attended service for the last
time at the old parish church, upon which occasion, at the
request of his uncle and Aunt Rachel, he was induced (nothing
loth, if the truth must be told) to present himself in full
uniform.

There is no better antidote against entertaining too high an
opinion of others, than having an excellent one of ourselves at
the very same time. Miss Stubbs had indeed summoned up
every assistance which art could afford to beauty ; but, alas !
hoop, patches, frizzled locks, and a new mantua of genuine
French silk, were lost upon a young officer of dragoons, who
wore, for the first time, his gold-laced hat, jack-boots, and
broadsword. I know not whether, like the champion of an old
ballad,

His heart was all on honour bent

He could not stoop to love ;

No lady in the land had power

His frozen heart to move ;

or whether the deep and flaming bars of embroidered gold
which now fenced his breast, defied the artillery of Cecilia's
eyes ; but every arrow was launched at him in vain.

Yet did I mark where Cupid's shaft did light ;
It lighted not on little western flower,

X

^ WAVERLEY NOVELS.

But on bold yeoman, flower of all the west,
Hight Jonas Culbertfield, the steward's son.

Craving pardon for my heroics (which I am unable in certain
cases to resist giving way to), it is a melancholy fact, that my
history must here take leave of the fair Cecilia, who, like many
a daughter of Eve, after the departure of Edward, and the dissi-
pation of certain idle visions which she had adopted, quietly
contented herself with a pis-aller, and gave her hand, at the
distance of six months, to the aforesaid Jonas, son of the Baro-
net's steward, and heir (no unfertile prospect) to a steward's
fortune ; besides the snug probability of succeeding to his father's
oflfice. All these advantages moved Squire Stubbs, as much as
the ruddy brow and manly form of the suitor influenced his
daughter, to abate somewhat in the article of their gentry ; and
so the match was concluded. None seemed more gratified than
Aunt Rachel, who had hitherto looked rather askance upon the
L^ ^ presumptuous damsel (as much so, perad venture, as her nature
d^^^ would permit), but who, on the first appearance of the new-
married pair at church, honoured the bride with a smile and a
profound courtesy, in presence of the rector, the curate, the
clerk, and the whole congregation of the united parishes of
Waverley cum Beverley.

I beg pardon, once and for all, of those readers who take up
novels merely for amusement, for plaguing them so long with
old-fashioned politics, and Whig and Tory, and Hanoverians
and Jacobites. The truth is, I cannot promise them that this
story shall be intelligible, not to say probable, without it. My
plan requires that I should explain the motives on which its
action proceeded ; and these motives necessarily arose from the
feelings, prejudices, and parties of the times. I do not invite
my fair readers, whose sex and impatience give them the greatest
right to complain of these circumstances, into a flying chariot
drawn by hippogriffs, or moved by enchantment. Mine is an
humble English post-chaise, drawn upon four wheels, and keep-
ing his Majesty's highway. Such as dislike the vehicle may
leave it at the next halt, and wait for the conveyance of Prince
Hussein's tapestry, or Malek the Weaver's flying sentry-box.
Those who are contented to remain with me will be occasionally
exposed to the dulness inseparable from heavy roads, steep hills,
sloughs, and other terrestrial retardations ; but, with tolerable
horses and a civil driver (as the advertisements have it), I engage

WAVEELEY. 49

to get as soon as possible into a more picturesque and romantic
country, if my passengers incline to have some patience with me
durmg my first stages.*

* These lutroductory Chapters have been a good deal censured as tedious
and unnecessary. Yet there are circumstances recorded in them which the
author has not been able to persuade himself to retract or cauceL

CHAPTER SIXTH.

THE ADIEUS OF WAVERLEY.

It was upon the evening of this memorable Sunday that Sir
Everard entered the library, where he narrowly missed surpris-
ing our yoimg hero as he went through the guards of the
broadsword with the ancient weapon of old Sir Hildebrand,
which, being preserved as an heir-loom, usually hung over the
chimney in the library, beneath a pictiu-e of the knight and his
horse, where the features were almost entirely hidden by the
knight's profusion of curled hau", and the Bucephalus which he
bestrode concealed by the voluminous robes of the Bath with
which he was decorated. Sir Everard entered, and after a
glance at the picture and another at his nephew, began a little
speech, which, however, soon dropt into the natural simplicity
of his common manner, agitated upon the present occasion by
no common feeling. " Nephew," he said ; and then, as mend-
ing his phrase, " My dear Edward, it is God's will, and also the
will of your father, whom, under God, it is your duty to obey,
that you should leave us to take up the profession of arms, in
which so many of your ancestors have been distinguished. I
have made such arrangements as will enable you to take the
j&eld as their descendant, and as the probable heir of the house
of Waverley ; and, sir, in the field of battle you will remember
what name you bear. And, Edward, my dear boy, remember
also that you are the last of that race, and the only hope of its
revival depends upon you ; therefore, as far as duty and honour
will permit, avoid danger — I mean unnecessary danger— and
keep no company with rakes, gamblers, and Whigs, of whom,
it is to be feared, there are but too many in the service into
which you are going. Your colonel, as I am informed, is an

VOL. L E

60

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

excellent man — for a Presbyterian; but you will remember

your duty to God, the Church of England, and the" (this

breach ought to have been supplied, according to the rubric,
with the word king ; but as, unfortunately, that word conveyed
a double and embarrassing sense, one meaning de facto, and the
other de jure, the knight filled up the blank otherwise) — " the
Church of England, and all constituted authorities." Then, not
trusting himself with any further oratory, he carried his nephew
to his stables to see the horses destined for his campaign. Two
were black (the regimental colour), superb chargers both ; the
other three were stout active hacks, designed for the road, or
for his domestics, of whom two were to attend him from the
Hall : an additional groom, if necessary, might be picked up in
Scotland.

" You will depart with but a small retinue," quoth the Baro-
net, "compared to Sir Hildebrand, when he mustered before
the gate of the Hall a larger body of horse than your whole
regiment consists of. I could have wished that these twenty
young fellows from my estate, who have enlisted in yoiu- troop,
had been to march with you on your journey to Scotland. It
would have been something, at least; but I am told their
attendance would be thought unusual in these days, when
every new and foolish fashion is introduced to break the natural
dependence of the people upon their landlords."

Sir Everard had done his best to correct this unnatural dis-
position of the times ; for he had brightened the chain of attach-
ment between the recruits and their young captain, not only by
a copious repast of beef and ale, by way of parting feast, but
by such a pecuniary donation to each individual, as tended
rather to improve the conviviality than the discipline of their
march. After inspecting the cavalry. Sir Everard again con-
ducted his nephew to the library, where he produced a letter,
carefully folded, surrounded by a little stripe of flox-silk, accord-
ing to ancient form, and sealed with an accurate impression
of the Waverley coat-of-arms. It was addressed, with great
formality, " To Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Esq. of Bradwar-
dine, at his principal mansion of TuUy-Veolan, in Perthshire,
North Britain. These — By the hands of Captain Edward
Waverley, nephew of Sir Everard Waverley, of Waverley-
Honoiu-, Bart."

The gentleman to whom this enormous greeting was addressed.

WAVERLEY. 51

of whom we shall have more to say in the sequel, had been in
arms for the exiled family of Stewart in the year 1715, and was
made prisoner at Preston in Lancashire. He was of a very
ancient family, and somewhat embarrassed fortune ; a scholar,
according to the scholarship of Scotchmen, that is, his learning
was more diffuse than accurate, and he was rather a reader than
a grammarian. Of his zeal for the classic authors he is said to
have given an uncommon instance. On the road between Pres-
ton and London he made his escape from his guards ; but being
afterwards found loitering near the place where they had lodged
the former night, he was recognised, and again arrested. His
companions, and even his escort, were surprised at his infatua-
tion, and could not help inquiring, why, being once at liberty,
he had not made the best of his way to a place of safety ; to
which he replied, that he had intended to do so, but, in good
faith, he had returned to seek his Titus Livius, which he had
forgot in the hurry of his escape.* The simplicity of this anec-
dote struck the gentleman, who, as we before observed, had
managed the defence of some of those unfortunate persons, at the
expense of Sir Everard, and perhaps some others of the party.
He was, besides, himself a special admu'er of the old Patavinian ;
and though probably his own zeal might not have carried him
such extravagant lengths, even to recover the edition of Sweyn-
heim and Pannartz (supposed to be the princeps), he did not the
less estimate the devotion of the North Briton, and in conse-
quence exerted himself to so much purpose to remove and
soften evidence, detect legal flaws, et cetera, that he accomplished
the final discharge and deliverance of Cosmo Comyne Bradwar-
dine from certain very awkward consequences of a plea before
our sovereign lord the king in Westminster.

The Baron of Bradwardine, for he was generally so called in
Scotland (although his intimates, from his place of residence,
used to denominate him TuUy-Veolan, or more familiarly,
Tully), no sooner stood rectus in curid, then he posted down to
pay his respects and make his acknowledgments at Waverley-
Honour. A congenial passion for field-sports and a general
coincidence in political opinions, cemented his friendship with
Sir Everard, notwithstanding the difference of tlieir habits and
studies in other particulars; and, having spent several weeks
at Waverley-Honour, the Baron departed with many expressions
* Note A. Titus Livius.

6S WAVERLEY NOVELS.

of regard, warmly pressing the Baronet to return his visit, and
partake of the diversion of grouse-shooting upon his moors in
Perthshire next season. Shortly after, Mr. Bradwardine re-
mitted from Scotland a sum in reimbursement of expenses
incurred in the King's High Court of Westminster, which,
although not quite so formidable when reduced to the English
denomination, had, in its original form of Scotch pounds,
shillings, and pence, such a formidable effect upon the frame
of Duncan Macwheeble, the laird's confidential factor, baron-
bailie, and man of resource, that he had a fit of the colic which
lasted for five days, occasioned, he said, solely and utterly by
becoming the unhappy instrument of conveying such a serious
simi of money out of his native country into the hands of the
false English. But patriotism, as it is the fairest, so it is often
the most suspicious mask of other feelings ; and many who
knew Bailie Macwheeble, concluded that his professions of
regret were not altogether disinterested, and that he would
have grudged the moneys paid to the loons at Westminster
much less had they not come from Bradwardine estate — a fimd
which he considered as more particularly his own. But the
Bailie protested he was absolutely disinterested —

Woe, woe, for Scotland, not a wMt for me !

The laird was only rejoiced that his worthy friend. Sir Everard
Waverley of Waverley-Honour, was reimbursed of the expendi-
ture which he had outlaid on account of the house of Bradwar-
dine. It concerned, he said, the credit of his own family, and
of the kingdom of Scotland at large, that these disbursements
should be repaid forthwith, and, if delayed, it would be a matter
of national reproach. Sir Everard, accustomed to treat much
larger sums with indifference, received the remittance of £294,
13s. 6d, without being aware that the payment was an inter-
national concern, and, indeed, would probably have forgot the
circumstance altogether, if Bailie Macwheeble had thought of
comforting his colic by intercepting the subsidy. A yearly
intercourse took place, of a short letter, and a hamper, or a
cask or two, between Waverley-Honour and TuUy-Veolan, the
English exports consisting of mighty cheeses and mightier ale,
pheasants and venison, and the Scottish returns being vested in
grouse, white hares, pickled salmon, and usquebaugh. AH
which were meant, sent, and received, as pledges of constant

WAVERLEY. M

friendship and amity between two important houses. It fol-
lowed as a matter of course, that the heir-apparent of Waverley-
Honour could not, with propriety, visit Scotland without being
furnished with credentials to the Baron of Bradwardine.

When this matter was explained and settled, Mr. Pembroke
expressed his wish to take a private and particular leave of his
dear pupil. The good man's exhortations to Edward to preserve
an imblemished life and morals, to hold fast the principles
of the Christian religion, and to eschew the profane company of
scoffers and latitudinarians, too much abounding in the army,
were not unmingled with his political prejudices. It had
pleased Heaven, he said, to place Scotland (doubtless for the
sins of their ancestors in 1642) in a more deplorable state of
darkness than even this unhappy kingdom of England. Here,
at least, although the candlestick of the Church of England had
been in some degree removed from its place, it yet afforded a
glimmering light ; there was a hierarchy, though schismatical,
and fallen from the principles maintained by those great fathers
of the church, Sancroft and his brethren ; there was a liturgy,
though wofully perverted in some of the principal petitions.
But in Scotland it was utter darkness ; and, excepting a sor-
rowful, scattered, and persecuted remnant, the pulpits were
abandoned to Presbyterians, and he feared, to sectaries of every
description. It should be his duty to fortify his dear pupil to
resist such unhallowed and pernicious doctrines in church and
state, as must necessarily be forced at times upon his unwilling
ears.

Here he produced two immense folded packets, which appear-
ed each to contain a whole ream of closely written manuscript.
They had been the labour of the worthy man's whole life ; and
never were labour and zeal more absurdly wasted. He had at
one time gone to London, with the intention of giving them to
the world, by the medium of a bookseller in Little Britain,
well known to deal in such commodities, and to whom he was
instructed to address himself in a particular phrase, and with a
certain sign, which, it seems, passed at that time current among
the initiated Jacobites. The moment Mr. Pembroke had uttered
the shibboleth, with the appropriate gesture, the bibliopolist
greeted him, notwithstanding every disclamation, by the title of
Doctor, and conveying him into his back shop, after inspecting
every possible and impossible place of concealment, he com-

64 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

menced: "Eh, doctor! Well — all under the rose — snug — I
keep no holes here even for a Hanoverian rat to hide in. And,
what — eh ! any good news from our friends over the water 1 —
and how does the worthy king of France ? Or perhaps you are
more lately from Rome 1 — it must be Rome will do it at last —
the church must light its candle at the old lamp. Eh ! what,
cautious 1 I like you the better ; but no fear."

Here Mr. Pembroke, with some diflBculty, stopped a torrent
of interrogations, eked out with signs, nods, and winks ; and,
having at length convinced the bookseller that he did him too
much honour in supposing him an emissary of exiled royalty, he
explained his actual business.

The man of books, with a much more composed air, proceeded
to examine the manuscripts. The title of the first was, " A
Dissent from Dissenters, or the Comprehension confuted ; shew-
the Impossibility of any Composition between the Church and
Puritans, Presbyterians, or Sectaries of any description ; illus-
trated from the Scriptures, the Fathers of the Church, and the
soundest Controversial Divines." To this work the bookseller
positively demurred. "Well meant," he said, "and learned,
doubtless ; but the time had gone by. Printed on small pica
it would run to eight hundred pages, and could never pay.
Begged therefore to be excused. Loved and honoured the true
church from his soul ; and, had it been a sermon on the
martyrdom, or any twelve-penny touch — why I would venture
something for the honour of the cloth. But come, let's see the
other. ' Right Hereditary righted ! ' ah, there's some sense in
this ! Hum — hum — hum — pages so many, paper so much,

letter-press Ah ! I'll tell you, though, doctor, you must

knock out some of the Latin and Greek ; heavy, doctor, damn'd
heavy — (beg your pardon) and if you throw in a few grains
more pepper — I am he that never peached my author — I have
published for Drake, and Charlwood Lawton, and poor Am-
hurst.* Ah, Caleb ! Caleb ! Well, it was a shame to let poor
Caleb starve, and so many fat rectors and squires among us. I
gave him a dinner once a-week; but. Lord love you, what's once
a-week, when a man does not know where to go the other six
days?— Well, but I must shew the manuscript to little Tom
Alibi, the solicitor, who manages all my law affairs — must keep
on the windy side — the mob were very uncivil the last time I
* Note B. Nicholas Amliurst.

WAVERLEY. 5fi

mounted in Old Palace Yard — all Whigs and Roundheads every
man of them, Williamites and Hanover rats."

The next day Mr. Pembroke again called on the publisher,
but found Tom Alibi's advice had determined him against
undertaking the work. " Not but what I would go to — (what
was I going to say 1) to the Plantations for the church with
pleasure — ^but, dear doctor, I have a wife and family ; but, to
show my zeal, I'll recommend the job to my neighbour Trim-
mel — he is a bachelor, and leaving off business, so a voyage
in a western barge would not inconvenience him." But Mr.
Trimmel was also obdurate, and Mr. Pembroke, fortunately
perchance for himself, was compelled to return to Waverley-
Honour with his treatise in vindication of the real fundamental
principles of church and state safely packed in his saddle-bags.

As the public were thus likely to be deprived of the benefit
arising from his lucubrations by the selfish cowardice of the
trade, Mr. Pembroke resolved to make two copies of these
tremendous manuscripts for the use of his pupil. He felt that
he had been indolent as a tutor, and, besides, his conscience
checked him for complying with the request of Mr. Richard
Waverley, that he would impress no sentiments upon Edward's
mind inconsistent with the present settlement in chiu-ch and
state. But now, thought he, I may, without breach of my
word, since he is no longer under my tuition, aff"ord the youth
the means of judging for himself, and have only to dread his
reproaches for so long concealing the light which the perusal
will flash upon his mind. While he thus indulged the reveries
of an author and a politician, his darling proselyte, seeing
nothing very inviting in the title of the tracts, and appalled by
the bulk and compact lines of the manuscript, quietly consigned
them to a corner of his travelling trunk.

Aunt Rachel's farewell was brief and affectionate. She only
cautioned her dear Edward^ whom she probably deemed some-
what susceptible," against the fascination of Scottish beauty.
She allowed that the northern part of the island contained some
ancient families, but they were all Whigs and Presbyterians
except the Highlanders ; and respecting them she must needs
say, there could be no great delicacy among the ladies, where
the gentlemen's usual attire was, as she had been assured, to
say the least, very singidar, and not at all decorous. She con-
cluded her farewell with a kind aud moving benediction, and

56 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

gave the young officer, as a pledge of her regard, a valuable
diamond ring (often worn by the male sex at that time), and
a purse of broad gold pieces, which also were more common
Sixty Years since than they have been of late.

CHAPTER SEVENTH.

A HOESE-QUARTER IN SCOTLAND.

The next morning, amid varied feelings, the chief of which
was a predominant, anxious, and even solemn impression, that
he was now in a great measure abandoned to his own guidance
and direction, Edward Waverley departed from the Hall amid
the blessings and tears of all the old domestics and the in-
habitants of the village, mingled with some sly petitions for
serjeantcies and corporalships, and so forth, on the part of those
who professed that " they never thoft to ha' seen Jacob, and
Giles, and Jonathan, go off for soldiers, save to attend his honour,
as in duty bound." Edward, as in duty bound, extricated him-
self from the supplicants with the pledge of fewer promises than
might have been expected from a young man so little accustomed
to the world. After a short visit to London, he proceeded on
horseback, then the general mode of travelling, to Edinburgh,
and from thence to Dundee, a seaport on the eastern coast of
Angus-shire, where his regiment was then quartered.

He now entered upon a new world, where, for a time, all was
beautiful because all was new. Colonel Gardiner, the com-
manding officer of the regiment, was himself a study for a
romantic, and at the same timean^inquisitive, youth. T!n
person He" was tall, handsome, and active, though somewhat
advanced in life. In his early years he had been what is
called, by manner of palliative, a very gay young man, and
strange stories were circulated about his sudden conversion
from doubt, if not infidelity, to a serious and even enthusiastic
turn of mind. 'It was whispered that a supernatural com-
munication, of a nature obvious even to the exterior senses, had
produced this wonderful change ; and though some mentioned
the proselyte as an enthusiast, none hinted at his being a
hypocrite. This singular and mystical circumstance gave

WAVERLEY. 57

Colonel Gardiner a peculiar and solemn interest in the eyes of
the young soldier.* It may be easily imagined that the ofl&cers
of a regiment, commanded by so respectable a person, composed
a society more sedate and orderly than a military mess always
exhibits ; and that Waverley escaped some temptations to which
he might otherwise have been exposed.

Meanwhile his military education proceeded. Already a
good horseman, he was now initiated into the arts of the
manege, which, when carried to perfection, almost realise the
fable of the Centaur, the guidance of the horse appearing to
proceed from the rider's mere volition, rather than from the use
of any external and apparent signal of motion. He received
also instructions in his field duty ; but, I must own, that when
his first ardour was passed, his progress fell short in the latter
particular of what he wished and expected. The duty of an
oflBcer, the most imposing of all others to the inexperienced
mind, because accompanied with so much outward pomp and
circumstance, is in its essence a very dry and abstract task,
depending chiefly upon arithmetical combinations, requiring
much attention, and a cool and reasoning head, to bring them
into action. Our hero was liable to fits of absence, in which
his blunders excited some mirth, and called down some reproof.
This circumstance impressed him with a painful sense of infe-
riority in those qualities which appeared most to deserve and
obtain regard in his new profession. He asked himself in vain,
why his eye could not judge of distance or space so well as
those of his companions ; why his head was not always suc-
cessful in disentangling the various partial movements necessary
to execute a particular evolution; and why his memory, so
alert upon most occasions, did not correctly retain technical
phrases, and minute points of etiquette or field discipline.
Waverley was naturally modest, and therefore did not fall into
the egregious mistake of supposing such minuter rules of mili-
tary duty beneath his notice, or conceiting himself to be bom a
general, because he made an indifferent subaltern. The truth
was, that the vague and unsatisfactory course of reading which
he had pursued, working upon a temper naturally retired and
abstracted, had given him that wavering and unsettled habit of
mind which is most averse to study and rivetted attention.
Time, in the meanwhile, hung heavy on his hands. The gentry
* Note C. Colonel Gardiner.

<^^

58 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

of tlie neighbourhood were disaffected, and showed little hospi-
tality to the military guests; and the people of the town,
hiefly engaged in mercantila. pursuits, were not such as Waver-
ej chose to associate with. The arrival of summer, and a
curiosity to know something more of Scotland than he could see
in a ride from his quarters, determined him to request leave of
absence for a few weeks. He resolved first to visit his uncle's
ancient friend and correspondent, with the purpose of extending
or shortening the time of his residence according to circum-
stances. He travelled of course on horseback, and with a single
attendant, and passed his first night at a miserable inn, where
the landlady had neither shoes nor stockings, and the landlord,
who called himself a gentleman, was disposed to be rude to his
guest because he had not bespoke the pleasure of his society to
supper.* The next day, traversing an open and unenclosed
country, Edward gradually approached the Highlands of Perth-
shire, which at first had appeared a blue outline in the horizon,
but now swelled into huge gigantic masses, which frowned de-
fiance over the more level country that lay beneath them.
Near the bottom of this stupendous barrier, but still in the
Lowland country, dwelt Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine of Brad-
wardine ; and, if grey-haired eld can be in aught believed, there
had dwelt his ancestors, with all their heritage, since the days
of the gracious King Duncan.

CHAPTER EIGHTH.

A SCOTTISH MANOR-HOUSE SIXTY YEARS SINCE.

It was about noon when Captain Waverley entered the
straggling village, or rather hamlet, of Tully-Veolan, close to
which was situated the mansion of the proprietor. The houses
seemed miserable in the extreme, especially to an eye accustomed
to the smiling neatness of English cottages. They stood, with-
out any respect for regularity, on each side of a straggling kind
of unpaved street, where children, almost in a primitive state
of nakedness, lay sprawling, as if to be crushed by the hoofs
of the first passing horse. Occasionally, indeed, when such a
* Note D Scottish Inus.

WAVERLEY. 59

consummation seemed inevitable, a watchful old grandam, with
her close cap, distaff, and spindle, rushed like a sibyl in Irenzy
out of one of these miserable cells, dashed into the middle of
the path, and snatching up her own charge from among the
sun-burnt loiterers, saluted him with a sound cuff, and trans-
ported him back to his dungeon, the little white-headed varlet
screaming all the while, from the very top of his lungs, a shrilly
treble to the growling remonstrances of the enraged matron.
Another part in this concert was sustained by the incessant
yelping of a score of idle useless curs, which followed, snarling,
barking, howling, and snapping at the horses' heels ; a nuisance
at that time so common in Scotland, that a French tourist, who,
like other travellers, longed to find a good and rational reason
for everything he saw, has recorded, as one of the memorabilia
of Caledonia, that the state maintained in each village a relay
of curs, called collies, whose duty it was to chase the chevaux de
poste (too starved and exhausted to move without such a stimulus)
from one hamlet to another, till their annoying convoy drove
them to the end of their stage. The evil and remedy (such as
it is) still exist ; but this is remote from our present purpose,
and is only thrown out for consideration of the collectors under
Mr. Dent's dog-bill.

As Waverley moved on, here and there an old man, bent as
much by toil as years, his eyes bleared with age and smoke,
tottered to the door of his hut, to gaze on the dress of the
stranger, and the form and motions of the horses, and then
assembled with his neighbours, in a little group at the smithy, to
discuss the probabilities of whence the stranger came, and where
he might be going. Three or four village girls, returning from
the well or brook with pitchers and pails upon their heads,
formed more pleasing objects ; and, with their thin, short gowns
and single petticoats, bare arms, legs, and feet, uncovered heads,
and braided hair, somewhat resembled Italian forms of landscape.
Nor could a lover of the pictur^que have challenged either the
elegance of their costume, or the~ symmetry of their shape;
although, to say the truth, a mere Englishman, in search of the
comf or table, a word peculiar to his native tongue, might have
wished the clothes less scanty, the feet and legs somewhat pro-
tected from the weather, the head and complexion shrouded
from the sun, or perhaps might even have thought the whole
person and dress considerably improved, by a plentiful applica-

60 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

tion of spring water, with a quantum mfficit of soap. The whole
scene was depressing ; for it argued, at the first glance, at least a
stagnation of industry, and perhaps of intellect. Even curiosity,
the busiest passion of the idle, seemed of a listless cast in the
village of TuUy-Veolan : the curs aforesaid alone showed any
part of its activity ; with the villagers it was passive. They
stood and gazed at the handsome young officer and his attendant,
but without any of those quick motions, and eager looks, that
indicate the earnestness with which those who live in monotonous
ease at home, look out for amusement abroad. Yet the physi-
ognomy of the people, when more closely examined, was far
from exhibiting the indifference of stupidity : their features
were rough, but remarkably intelligent; grave, but the very
reverse of stupid ; and from among the yoimg women, an artist
might have chosen more than one model, whose features and
form resembled those of Minerva. The children, also, whose
skins were burnt black, and whose hair was bleached white, by
the influence of the sun, had a look and manner of life and in-
terest. It seemed, upon the whole, as if poverty, and indolence,
its too frequent companion, were combining to depress the
natural genius and acquired information of a hardy, intelligent,
and reflecting peasantry.

Some such thoughts crossed Waverley's mind as he paced his
horse slowly through the rugged and flinty street of TuUy-Veolan,
interrupted only in his meditations by the occasional caprioles
which his charger exhibited at the reiterated assaults of those
canine Cossacks, the collies before mentioned. The village was
more than half a mile long, the cottages being irregularly divided
from each other by gardens, or yards, as the inhabitants called
them, of different sizes, where (for it is Sixty Years since) the
now universal potato was unknown, but which were stored with
gigantic plants of kale or colewort, encircled with groves of
nettles, and exhibited here and there a huge hemlock, or the
national thistle, overshadowing a quarter of the petty enclosure.
The broken ground on which the village was built had never
been levelled ; so that these enclosures presented declivities of
every degree, here rising like terraces, there sinking like tanpits.
The dry-stone walls which fenced, or seemed to fence (for they
were sorely breached), these hanging gardens of Tully-Veolan,
were intersected by a narrow lane leading to the common field,
where the joint labour of the villagers cultivated altemat^e

WAVERLEY. 61

ridges and patches of rye, oats, barley, and peas, each of such
minute extent, that at a little distance the unprofitable variety
of the surface resembled a tailor's book of patterns. In a few
favoured instances, there appeared behind the cottages a miser-
able wigwam, compiled of earth, loose stones, and turf, where
the wealthy might perhaps shelter a starved cow or sorely galled
horse. But almost every hut was fenced in front by a huge
black stack of turf on one side of the door, while on the other
the family dung-hill ascended in noble emulation.

About a bow-shot from the end of the village appeared the
enclosures, proudly denominated the Parks of Tully-Veolan,
being certain square fields, surrounded and divided by stone
walls five feet in height. In the centre of the exterior barrier
was the upper gate of the avenue, opening under an archway,
battlemented on the top, and adorned with two large weather-
beaten mutilated masses of upright stone, which, if the tradition
of the hamlet could be trusted, had once represented, at least
had been once designed to represent, two rampant Bears, the
supporters of the family of Bradwardine. This avenue was
straight, and of moderate length, running between a double row
of very ancient horse-chestnuts, planted alternately with syca-
mores, which rose to such huge height, and flourished so
luxuriantly, that their boughs completely over-arched the broad
road beneath. Beyond these venerable ranks, and running
parallel to them, were two high walls, of apparently the like
antiquity, overgrown with ivy, honeysuckle, and other climbing
plants. The avenue seemed very little trodden^ and chiefly by
foot-passengers; so that being very broad, and enjoying a
constant shade, it was clothed with grass of a deep and rich
verdure, excepting where a foot-path, worn by occasional pas-
sengers, tracked with a natural sweep the way from the upper
to the lower gate. This nether portal, like the former, opened
in front of a wall ornamented with some rude sculpture, with
battlements on the top, over which were seen, half-hidden by the
trees of the avenue, the high steep roofs and narrow gables of
the mansion, with lines indented into steps, and comers decorated
with small turrets. One of the folding leaves of the lower
gate was open, and as the sun shone full into the court behind,
a long line of brilliancy was flung upon the aperture up the
dark and gloomy avenue. It was one of those effects which a
painter loves to represent, and mingled well with the struggling

62 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

light which found its way between the boughs of the shady arch
that vaulted the broad green alley.

The solitude and repose of the whole scene seemed almost
romantic j and Waverley, who had given his horse to his servant
(5nr~entering the first gate, walked slowly down the avenue,
enjoying the grateful and cooling shade, and so much pleased
with the placid ideas of rest and seclusion excited by this con-
fined and quiet scene, that he forgot the misery and dirt of the
hamlet he had left behind him. The opening into the paved
court-yard corresponded with the rest of the scene. The house,
which seemed to consist of two or three high, narrow, and steex)-
roofed buildings, projecting from each other at right angles,
formed one side of the enclosure. It had been built at a period
when castljs were no longer necessary, and when the Scottish
ai'chitects had not yet acquired the art of designing a domestic
residenco. TLj ..i'adows were numberless, but very small ; the
roof had some nondescript kind of projections, called bartizans,
and displayed at each frequent angle a small turret, rather
resembling a pepper-box than a Gothic watch-tower. Neither
did the front indicate absolute security from danger. There
were loop-holes for musketry, and iron stancheons on the lower
windows, probably to repel any roving band of gipsies, or resist
a predatory visit from the Caterans of the neighbouring High-
lands. Stables and other offices occupied another side of the
square. The former were low vaults, with narrow slits instead
of windows, resembling, as Edward's groom observed, " rather a
prison for murderers and larceners, and such like as are tried at
'sizes, than a place for any Christian cattle." Above these
dungeon-looking stables were granaries, called gimels, and other
offices, to which there was access by outside stairs of heavy
masonry. Two battlemented walls, one of which faced the
avenue, and the other divided the court from the garden, com-
pleted the enclosure.

Nor was the court without its ornaments. In one comer was
a tun-bellied pigeon-house of great size and rotundity, resem-
bling in figure and proportion the curious edifice called Arthur's
Oven, which would have turned the brains of all the antiquaries
in England had not the worthy proprietor pulled it down for
the sake of mending a neighbouring dam-dyke. This dovecot,
or columhariwm, as the owner called it, was no small resource
to a Scottish laird of that period, whose scanty rents were eked

WAVERLEY. 63

out by the contributions levied upon the farms by these light
foragers, and the conscriptions exacted from the latter for the
benefit of the table.

Another corner of the court displayed a fountain, where a
huge bear, carved in stone, predominated over a large stone
basin, into which he disgorged the water. This work of art was
the wonder of the country ten miles round. It must not be
forgotten that all sorts of bears, small and large, demi or in full
proportion, were carved over the windows, upon the ends of the
gables, terminated the spouts, and supported the turrets, with
the ancient family motto, " "Peroar ti)e ^ar/' cut under each
hyperborean form. The court was spacious, well paved, and
perfectly clean, there being probably another entrance behind
the stables for removing the litter. Everything around appeared
solitary, and would have been silent, but for the continued
plashing of the fountain ; and the whole scene still maintained
the monastic illusion which the fancy of Waverley had conjured
up. — And here we beg permission to close a chapter of still
Ufe^

* There is no particular mansion described under the name of Tully-
Veolan ; but the peculiarities of the description occur in various old
Scottish seats, t The house of Warrender upon Bruntsfield Links, and that
of Old Ravelston, belonging, the former to Sir George Warrender, the latter
to Sir Alexander Keith, have both contributed several hints to the de-
scription in the text. The House of Dean, near Edinburgh, has also some
points of resemblance with Tully-Veolan, The author has, however, been
informed, that the House of Grandtully resembles that of the Baron of
Bradwardine still more than any of the above.

t (The rampant bears on the gateway are supposed to have been suggested to the
author by similar effigies still standing on the gate to Traquair House on the Tweed,
with which he was well acquainted. Mr. Lockhart mentions CraighaU in Perthshire
as another mansion bearing a hkeness to Tully-Veolan.)

64 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER NINTH

MOEB OF THE MANOE-HOUSE AND ITS ENVIRONS.

After having satisfied his curiosity by gazing around him for a
few minutes, Waverley applied himself to the massive knocker
of the hall door, the architrave of which bore the date 1594.
But no answer was returned, though the peal resounded through
a number of apartments, and was echoed from the coui't-yard
walls without the house, startling the pigeons from the vener-
able rotunda which they occupied, and alarming anew even the
distant village curs, which had retired to sleep upon their re-
spective dunghills. Tired of the din which he created, and the
unprofitable responses which it excited, Waverley began to think
that he had reached the castle of Orgoglio, as entered by the
victorious Prince Arthur,

When 'gan lie loudly through the house to call,

But no man cared to answer to his cry ;
There reigned a solemn silence over all,
Nor voice was heard, nor wight was seen, in bower or hall.

Filled almost with expectation of beholding some " old, old
man, with beard as white as snow," whom he might question
concerning this deserted mansion, our hero turned to a little
oaken wicket-door, well clenched with iron nails, which opened
in the court-yard wall at its angle with the house. It was only
latched, notwithstanding its fortified appearance, and when
opened admitted him into the garden, which presented a pleasant
scene.* The southern side of the house, clothed with fruit-
trees, and having many evergreens trained upon its walls, ex-
tended its irregular yet venerable front along a terrace, partly
paved, partly gravelled, partly bordered with flowers and choice
shrubs. This elevation descended by three several flights of
steps, placed in its centre and at the extremities, into what
might be called the garden proper, and was fenced along the
top by a stone parapet with a heavy balustrade, ornamented

* At Ravelston may be seen such a garden, which the taste of the pro-
prietor, the author's friend and kinsman. Sir Alexander Keith, Knight
Mareschal, has judiciously preserved. That, as well as the house, is, how-
ever, of smaller dimensions than the Baron of Bradwardine's mansion and
garden are presumed to have been.

WAVERLET. 85

from space to space with huge grotesque figures of animals
seated upon their haimches, among which the favoiu'ite bear
wtis repeatedly introduced. Placed in the middle of the terrace,
between a sashed-door opening from the house and the central
flight of steps, a huge animal of the same species supported on
his head and fore-paws a sun-dial of large circumference in-
scribed with more diagrams than Edward's mathematics enabled
him to decipher.

The garden, which seemed to be kept with great accuracy,
abounded in fruit-trees, and exhibited a profusion of flowers
and evergreens, cut into grotesque forms. It was laid out in
terraces, which descended rank by rank from the western wall
to a large brook, which had a tranquil and smooth appearance,
where it served as a boundary to the garden; but, near the
extremity, leapt in tumult over a strong dam, or wear-head, the
cause of its temporary tranquillity, and there forming a cascade,
was overlooked by an octangular summer-house, with a gilded
bear on the top by way of vane. After this feat, the brook,
assuming its natural rapid and fierce character, escaped from
the eye down a deep and wooded dell, from the copse of which
arose a massive, but ruinous tower, the former habitation of the
Barons of Bradwardine. The margin of the brook, opposite to
the garden, displayed a naiTow meadow, or haugh, as it was
called, which formed a small washing-green ; the bank, which
retired behind it, was covered by ancient trees.

The scene, though pleasing, was not quite equal to the
gardens of Alcina; yet wanted not the ^^ due donzellette garrule"
of that enchanted paradise, for upon the green aforesaid two
bare-legged damsels, each standing in a spacious tub, performed
with their feet the ofiice of a patent washing-machine. These
did not, however, like the maidens of Armida, remain to greet
with their harmony the approaching guest, but, alarmed at the
appearance of a handsome stranger on the opposite side, dropped
their garments (I should say garment, to be quite correct) over
their limbs, which their occupation exposed somewhat too freely,
and, with a shrill exclamation of "Eh, sirs !" uttered with an
accent between modesty and coquetry, sprung off like deer in
diff'erent directions.

Waverley began to despair of gaining entrance into this soli-
tary and seemingly enchanted mansion, when a man advanced
up one of the garden alleysTwhere he still retained his station,

VOL. I. 3*"

66 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Tnistiug this might be a gardener, or some domestic belonging
to the house, Edwai'd descended the steps in order to meet hun ;
but as the figure approached, and long before he could descry
its features, he was struck with the oddity of its appearance and
gestures. — Sometimes this mister wight held his hands clasped
over his head, like an Indian Jogue in the attitude of penance ;
sometimes he swung them perpendicularly, like a pendulum, on
each side; and anon he slapped them swiftly and repeatedly
across his breast, like the substitute used by a hackney-coach-
man for his usual flogging exercise, when his cattle are idle
upon the stand in a clear frosty day. His gait was as singular
as his gestures, for at times he hopped with great perseverance
on the right foot, then exchanged that supporter to advance in
the same manner on the left, and then putting his feet close
together, he hopped upon both at once. His attire, also, was
antiquated and extravagant. It consisted in a sort of grey
jerkin, with scarlet cuffs and slashed sleeves, showing a scarlet
lining ; the other parts of the dress corresponded in colour, not
forgetting a pair of scarlet stockings, and a scarlet bonnet,
proudly surmounted with a turkey's feather. Edward, whom
he did not seem to observe, now perceived confirmation in his
features of what the mien and gestures had already announced.
It was apparently neither idiocy nor insanity which gave that
wild, unsettled, irregular expression to a face which naturally
was rather handsome, but something that resembled a com-
pound of both, where the simplicity of the fool was mixed with
the extravagance of a crazed imagination. He simg with great
earnestness, and not without some taste, a fragment of an old
Scottish ditty : —

False love, and hast thou played me thus

In summer among the flowers ?
I will repay thee back again

In winter among the showers.
Unless again, again, my love,

Unless you turn again ;
As you with other maidens rove,

I'U smile on other men.*

Here lifting up his eyes, which had hitherto been fixed in
observing how his feet kept time to the tune, he beheld
Waverley, and instantly doffed his cap, with many grotesque

* This is a genuine ancient fragment, with some alteration in the last
two lines.

I
I

WAVERLEY. 07

signals of surprise, respect, and salutation. Edward, though
with little hope of receiving an ajiswer, to any constant question,
requested to know whether Mr. Bradwardine were at home, or
where he could find any of the domestics. The questioned
party replied, — and, like the witch of Thalaba, " still his speech
was song," —

The Knight's to the mountain

His bugle to wind ;
The Lady's to greenwood.

Her garland to bind.
The bower of Burd Ellen
Has moss on the floor,
That the step of Lord William
Be silent and sure.

This conveyed no information, and Edward, repeating his
queries, received a rapid answer, in which, from the haste and
peculiarity of the dialect, the word "butler" was alone intelli-
gible. Waverley then requested to see the butler ; upon which
the fellow, with a knowing look and nod of intelligence, made a
signal to Edward to follow, and began to dance and caper down
the alley up which he had made his approaches. — A strange
guide this, thought Edward, and not much unlike one of
Shakspeare's roynish clowns. I am not over prudent to trust to
his pilotage ; but wiser men have been led by fools. — By this
time he reached the bottom of the alley, where, turning short
on a little parterre of flowers, shrouded from the east and north
by a close yew hedge, he found an old man at work without his
coat, whose appearance hovered between that of an upper servant
and gardener ; his red nose and ruffled shirt belonging to the
former profession ; his hale and sun-burnt visage, with his green
apron, appearing to indicate

Old Adam's likeness, set to dress this garden.

The major domo — for such he was, and indisputably the
second officer of state in the barony (nay, as chief minister of
the interior, superior even to Bailie Macwheeble, in his own
department of the kitchen and cellar) — the major domo laid
down his spade, slipped on his coat in haste, and with a
wrathful look at Edward's guide, probably excited by his having
introduced a stranger while he was engaged in this laborious,
and, as he might suppose it, degrading office, requested to know
the gentleman's commands. Being informed that he wished to

68 WAVERLEY ^^OVELS.

pay his respects to his master, that his name was Waverley, and
so forth, the old man's countenance assumed a great deal of
respectful importance. " He could take it upon his conscience
to say, his honour would have exceeding pleasure in seeing him.
Would not Mr. Waverley choose some refreshment after his
journey ? His honour was with the folk who were getting doon
the dark hag ; the twa gardener lads (an emphasis on the word
two) had been ordered to attend him; and he had been just
amusing himself in the mean time with dressing Miss Rose's
flower-bed, that he might be near to receive his honour's orders,
if need were : he was very fond of a garden, but had little time
for such divertisements."

" He canna get it wrought in abune twa days in the week at
no rate whatever," said Edward's fantastic conductor.

A grim look from the butler chastised his interference, and
he commanded him by the name of Davie Gellatley, in a tone
which admitted no discussion, to look for his honour at the dark
hag, and tell him there was a gentleman from the south had
arrived at the Ha'.

" Can this poor fellow deliver a letter?" asked Edward.

" With all fidelity, sir, to anyone whom he respects. I would
hardly trust him with a long message by word of mouth — though
he is more knave than fool."

Waverley delivered his credentials to Mr. Gellatley, who
seemed to confirm the butler's last observation, by twisting his
features at him, when he was looking another way, into the
resemblance of the grotesque face on the bowl of a German
tobacco-pipe ; after which, with an odd conge to Waverley, he
danced off to discharge his errand.

" He is an innocent, sir," said the butler ; " there is one such
in almost every town in the countiy, but ours is brought far
ben.* He used to work a day's turn weel enough; but he
help'd Miss Rose when she was flemit with the Laird of
Killancureit's new English bull, and since that time we ca' him
Davie Do-little ; indeed we might ca' him Davie Do-naething,
for since he got that gay clothing, to please his honour and my
young mistress (great folks will have their fancies), he has done
naething but dance up and do\\Ti about the toun, without doing
a single turn, unless trimming the laird's fishing- wand or busk-
ing his flies, or maybe catching a dish of trouts at an orra-time.
• (A glossary of provincial terms will be found at the ond of the volume.)

WAVERLEY. 69

But here comes Miss Rose, who, I take burden upon me for her,
will be especially glad to see one of the house of Waverley at
her father's mansion at Tully-Veolan."

But Kose Bradwardine deserves better of her unworthy
historian, than to be introduced at the end of a chapter. In
the meanwhile it may be noticed, that Waverley learned two
things from this colloquy ; that in Scotland a single house was
called a tovm, and a natiural fool an innocent. *

* I am ignorant how long the ancient and established custom of keeping
fools has been disused in England. Swift writes an eiJitajjh on the Earl of
Suffolk's fool,—

** Whose name was Dickie Pearce."

In Scotland the custom subsisted till late in the last century. At Glammis
Castle is preserved the dress of one of the jesters, very handsome, and
ornamented with many bells. It is not above thirty years since such a
character stood by the sideboard of a nobleman of the first rank in Scotland,
and occasionally mixed in the conversation, till he carried the joke rather
too far, in making proposals to one of the young ladies of the family, and
publishing the banns betwixt her and himself in the public church.

CHAPTER TENTH.

ROSE BRADWARDINE AND HER FATHER. fLC^S'C

Miss Bradwardine was but seventeen ; yet, at the last races

of the county town of , upon her health being proposed

among a round of beauties, the Laird of Bumperquaigh, per-
manent toast-master and croupier of the Bautherwhillery Club,
not only said More to the pledge in a pint bumper of Bourdeaux,
but, ere pouring forth the libation, denominated the divinity to
whom it was dedicated, "the Rose of Tully-Veolan;" upon
which festive occasion, three cheers were given by all the
sitting members of that respectable society, whose throats the
wine had left capable of such exertion. Nay, I am well assured,
that the sleeping partners of the company snorted applause, and
that although strong bumpers and weak brains had consigned
two or three to the floor, yet even these, fallen as they were
from their high estate, and weltering — I will carry the parody
no farther — uttered divei's inarticidate sounds, intunating their
assent to the motion.

70 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Such unanimous applause could not be extorted but by
acknowledged merit ; and Rose Bradwardine not only deserved
it, but also the approbation of much more rational persons than
the Bautherwhillery Club could have mustered, even before
discussion of the first magnum. She was indeed a very pretty
girl of the Scotch cast of beauty, that is, with a profusion of
hair of paley gold, and a skin like the snow of her own moun-
tains in whiteness. Yet she had not a pallid or pensive cast of
coimtenance ; her features, as well as her temper, had a lively
expression; her complexion, though not florid, was so pure as
to seem transparent, and the slightest emotion sent her whole
blood at once to her face and neck. Her form, though under
the common size, was remarkably elegant, and her motions
light, easy, and unembarrassed. She came from another part
of the garden to receive Captain Waverley, with a manner that
hovered between bashfulness and courtesy.

The first greetings past, Edward learned from her that the
dark hag, which had somewhat puzzled him in the butler's
account of his master's avocations, had nothing to do either
with a black cat or a broomstick, but was simply a portion of
oak copse which was to be felled that day. She offered, with
diffident civility, to show the stranger the way to the spot,
which, it seems, was not far distant ; but they were prevented
by the appearance of the Baron of Bradwardine in person, who,
summoned by David Gellatley, now appeared, "on hospitable
thoughts intent," clearing the ground at a prodigious rate with
swift and long strides, which reminded Waverley of the seven-
league boots of the nursery fable. He was a tall, thin, athletic
figure; old indeed, and grey-haired, but with every muscle
rendered as tough as whip-cord by constant exercise. He was
dressed carelessly, and more like a Frenchman than an English-
man of the period, while, from his hard features and perpendi-
cular rigidity of stature, he bore some resemblance to a Swiss
ofl&cer of the guards, who had resided some time at Paris, and
caught the costume, but not the ease or manner of its inhabit-
ants. The truth was, that his language and habits were as
heterogeneous as his external appearance.

Owing to his natural disposition to study, or perhaps to a
very general Scottish fashion of giving young men of rank a
legal education, he had been bred with a view to the bar. But
the politics of his family precluding the hope of his rising in

WAVERLEY. 71

that profession, Mr. Bradwardine travelled with high reputation
for several years, and made some campaigns in foreign service.
After his demSlS with the law of high treason in 1715, he ha^
lived in retirement, conversing almost entirely with those of his
own principles in the vicinage. The pedantry of the lawyer,
superinduced upon the military pride of the soldier, might
remind a modern of the days of the zealous volunteer service,
when the bar-gown of oiu" pleaders was often flung over a
blazing uniform. To this must be added the prejudices of
ancient birth and Jacobite politics, greatly strengthened by
habits of solitary and secluded authority, which, though exer-
cised only within the boimds of his half-cultivated estate, was
there indisputable and undisputed. For, as he used to observe,
" the lands of Bradwardine, Tully-Veolan, and others, had been
erected into a free barony by a charter from David the First,
cum liherali "potest, habendi curias et justicias, cum fossa et furca
(lie pit and gallows) et saka et soha, et thol et theam, et infang-
thief et outfang-thief, sive hand-habend, sive bak-barand." The
peculiar meaning of all these cabalistical words few or none
could explain ; but they implied, upon the whole, that the
Baron of Bradwardine might, in case of delinquency, imprison,
try, and execute his vassals at his pleasure. Like James the
first, however, the present possessor of this authority was more
pleased in talking about prerogative than in exercising it ; and,
excepting that he imprisoned two poachers in the dungeon of
the old tower of Tully-Veolan, where they were sorely fright-
ened by ghosts, and almost eaten by rats, and that he set an
old woman in the jougs (or Scottish pillory) for saying " there
were mair fules in the laird's ha' house than Davie Gellatley,"
I do not learn that he was accused of abusing his high powers.
Still, however, the conscious pride of possessing them gave
additional importance to his language and deportment.

At his first address to Waverley, it would seem that the
hearty pleasure he felt to behold the nephew of his friend had
somewhat discomposed the stiff and upright dignity of the
Baron of Bradwardine's demeanour, for the tears stood in the old
gentleman's eyes, when, having first shaken Edward heartily by
the hand in the English fashion, he embraced him dr-lor-modc
Frangoise, and kissed him on both sides of his face ; while the
hardness of his grip, and the quantity of Scotch snutf which

72 WAVERLEY NOVELS

his accolade communicated, called corresponding drops of mois
biire to the eyes of his guest.

" Upon the honoiu- of a gentleman," he said, ""but it makes
me young again to see you here, Mr. Waverley ! A worthy
scion of the old stock of Waverley-Honour — spes altera, as Maro
hath it — and you have the look of the old line. Captain Waver-
ley, not so portly yet as my old friend Sir Everard — mais cela
viendra avec le terns, as my Dutch acquaintance. Baron Kikkit-
broeck, said of the sagesse of Madame son epouse. — And so ye
have mounted the cockade ^ Right, right ; though I could have
wished the colour different, and so I would ha' deemed might
Sir Everard. But no more of that ; I am old, and times are
changed. — And how does the worthy knight baronet, and the
fair Mrs. Rachel ? — ^Ah, ye laugh, young man ! In troth she
was the fair Mrs. Rachel in the year of grace seventeen hun-
dred and sixteen ; but time passes — et singula prcedantur anni
— that is most certain. But once again, ye are most heartily
welcome to my poor house of Tully-Veolan ! — Hie to the house,
Rose, and see that Alexander Saunderson looks out the old
Chateau Margaux, which I sent from Bourdeaux to Dundee in
the year 1713."

Rose tripped off demurely enough till she turned the first

corner, and then ran with the speed of a fairy, that she might

gaia leisure, after discharging her father's commission, to put

, "^j^ her own dress in order, and produce all her little finery — an

i>^ occupation for which the approaching dinuer-hour left but

limited time.

" We cannot rival the luxuries of your English table. Captain
Waverley, or give you the epulce lautiores of Waverley-Honour
— I say epulcB rather than prandium, because the latter phrase is
popular ; Epulce ad senatum, prandium vero ad populum attinet,
says Suetonius Tranquillus. But I trust ye will applaud my
Bourdeaux ; c'est des deux oreilles, as Captain Vinsauf used
to say — Vinum primce notce, the Principal of St. Andrews
denominated it. And, once more, Captain Waverley, right glad
am I that ye are here to drink the best my cellar can make
forthcoming."

This speech, with the necessary interjectional answers, conti-
nued from the lower alley where they met, up to the door of
the house, where four or five servants in old-fashioned liveries,
headed by Alexander Saunderson, the butler, who now bore no

WAVERLEY. 78

token of the sable stains of the garden, received them in granil

costume^

In an old hall hiing round with pikes and with bows,

With old bucklers and corslets that had borne many shrewd blows.

Witli much ceremony, and still more real kindness, the Baron,
without stopping in any intermediate apartment, conducted his
guest through several into the great dining parlour, wainscoted
with black oak, and hung round with the pictures of his ances-
try, where a table was set forth in form for six persons, and an
old-fashioned beaufet displayed all the ancient and massive plate
of the Bradwardine family. A bell was now heard at the head
of the avenue ; for an old man, who acted as porter upon gala
days, had caught the alarm given by Waverley's arrival, and
repairing to his post, announced the arrival of other guests.

These, as the Baron assured his young friend, were very esti-
mable persons. " There was the young Laird of Balmawhapple,
a Falconer by surname, of the house of Glenfarquhar, given
right much to field sports — gaudet equis et canibus — but a
very discreet young gentleman. Then there was the Laird of
Killanciu-eit, who had devoted his leisure untill tillage and
agriculture, and boasted himself to be possessed of a bull of
matchless merit, brought from the county of Devon (the Dam-
nonia of the Romans, if we can trust Robert of Cirencester).
He is, as ye may well suppose from such a tendency, but of
yeoman extraction — servabit odorem testa diu — and I believe,
between ourselves, his grandsire was from the wrong side of the
Border — one Bullsegg, who came hither as a steward, or baUiflf,
or ground-officer, or something in that department, to the last
Gimigo of Killancureit, who died of an atrophy. After his
master's death, sir — ye would hardly believe such a scandal, —
but this Bullsegg, being portly and comely of aspect, intermar-
ried with the lady dowager, who was young and amorous, and
possessed himself of the estate, which devolved on this unhappy
woman by a settlement of her umwhile husband, in direct
contravention of an imrecorded taillie, and to the prejudice of
the disponer's own flesh and blood, ia the person of his
natural heir and seventh cousia, Girnigo of Tipperhewit, whose
family was so reduced by the ensuing lawsuit, that his repre-
sentative is now serving as a private gentleman-sentinel in the
Highland Black Watch. But this gentleman, Mr. Bullsegg of
Killancureit that now is, has good blood in liis veins by the

74

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

mother and grandmotlier, who were both of the family of
Pickletillim, and he is well liked and looked upon, and knows
his own place. And God forbid. Captain Waverley, that we of
irreproachable lineage should exult over him, when it may be,
that in the eighth, ninth, or tenth generation, his progeny may
rank, in a manner, with the old gentry of the country. Kank
and ancestry, sir, should be the last words in the mouths of us
of unblemished race — vix ea nostra voco, as Naso saith. — There
is, besides, a clergyman of the true (though suffering) Episcopal
church of Scotland. He was a confessor in her cause after the
year 1715, when a Whiggish mob destroyed his meeting-house,
tore his surplice, and plundered his dwelling-house of four silver
spoons, intromitting also with his mart and his meal-ark, and
with two barrels, one of single, and one of double ale, besides
three bottles of brandy.* My Baron-Bailie and doer, Mr.
Duncan Macwheeble, is the fourth on our list. There is a
question, owing to the incertitude of ancient orthography,
whether he belongs to the clan of Wheedle or of Quibble, but
both have produced persons eminent in the law." —

As such he described them by person and name,
They entered, and dinner was served as they came.

CHAPTER ELEVENTH.

THE BANQUET.

The entertainment was ample and handsome, according to the
Scotch ideas of the period, and the guests did great honour to it.
The Baron ate like a famished soldier, the Laird of Balmawhapple
like a sportsman, Bullsegg of Killancureit like a farmer, Waver-
ley himself like a traveller, and Bailie Macwheeble like all four
together ; though, either out of more respect, or in order to pre-

* Alter the Revolution of 1688, and on some occasions vfhen the spirit
of the Presbyterians had been unusually animated against their opponents,
the Episcopal clergymen, who were chiefly non-jurors, were exposed to be
mobbed, as we should now say, or rabbled, as the phrase then went, to
expiate their political heresies. But notwithstanding that the Presbyterians
liad the persecution in Charles II. and his brother's time, to exasperate them,
there was little mischief done beyond the kind of petty violence mentioned
in the text.

WAVERLEY. 75

serve that proper declination of person which showed a sense
that he was in the presence of his patron, he sat upon the edge
of his chair, placed at three feet distance from the table, and
achieved a communication with his plate by projecting his person
towards it in a line, which obliqued from the bottom of his
spine, so that the person who sat opposite to him could only see
the foretop of his riding periwig.

This stooping position might have been inconvenient to
another person, but long habit made it, whether seated or walk-
ing, perfectly easy to the worthy Bailie. In the latter posture,
it occasioned, no doubt, an unseemly projection of the person
towards those who happened to walk behind ; but those being
at all times his inferiors (for Mr. Macwheeble was very scrupu-
lous in giving place to all others), he cared very little what infer-
ence of contempt or slight regard they might derive from the
circumstance. Hence, when he waddled across the court to
and from his old grey pony, he somewhat resembled a turnspit
walking upon its hind legs.

The nonjuring clergyman was a pensive and interesting old
man, with much the air of a sufferer for conscience' sake. He
was one of those

Who, imdeprived, their benefice forsook.

For this whim, when the Baron was out of hearing, the Bailie
used sometimes gently to rally Mr. Rubrick, upbraiding liim
with the nicety of his scruples. Indeed, it must be owned that
he himself, though at heart a keen partizan of the exiled family,
had kept pretty fair with all the different turns of state in his
time ; so that Davie Gellatley once described him as a particu-
larly good man, who had a very quiet and peaceful conscience,
that never did him any harm.

When the dinner was removed, the Baron announced the
health of the King, politely leaving to the consciences of his
guests to drink to the sovereign de facto or de jure, as their
politics inclined. The conversation now became general, and
shortly afterwards Miss Bradwardine, who had done the honours
with natural grace and simplicity, retired, and was soon followed
by the clergyman. Among the rest of the party, the wine,
which fully justified the encomiums of the landlord, flowed freely
round, although Waverley, with some difficulty, obtained the
privilege of sometimes neglecting the glass. At length, as the

76 WAVRRLEY NOVELS.

evening grew more late, the Baron made a private signal to Mr.
Saunders Saunderson, or, as he facetiously denominated him,
Alexander ah Alexandra, who left the room with a nod, and
soon after returned, his grave countenance mantling with a
solemn and mysterious smile, and placed before his master a
small oaken casket, mounted with brass ornaments of curious
form. The Baron, drawing out a private key, unlocked the
casket, raised the lid, and produced a golden goblet of a singular
and antique appearance, moulded into the shape of a rampant
bear, which the owner regarded with a look of mingled reverence,
pride, and delight, that irresistibly reminded Waverley of Ben
Jonson's Tom Otter, with his Bull, Horse, and Dog, as that
wag wittily denominated his chief carousing cups. But Mr.
Bradwardine, turning towards him with complacency, requested
him to observe this curious relic of the olden time.

"It represents," he said, "the chosen crest of our family, a
bear, as ye observe, and rampant, because a good herald will
depict every animal in its noblest posture : as a horse salient, a
greyhound currant, and, as may be inferred, a ravenous animal
in actu ferociori, or in a voracious, lacerating, and devouring
posture. Now, sir, we hold this most honourable achievement
by the wappen-brief, or concession of arms, of Frederick Red-
beard. Emperor of Germany, to my predecessor, Godmimd
Bradwardine, it being the crest of a gigantic Dane, whom he
slew in the lists in the Holy Land, on a quarrel touching the
chastity of the Emperor's spouse or daughter, tradition saith not
precisely which, and thus, as Virgilius hath it —

Mutemus clypeos, Danaumque insignia nobis
Aptemus.

Then for the cup. Captain Waverley, it was wrought by the
command of St. Duthac, Abbot of Aberbrothock, for behoof of
another Baron of the house of Bradwardine, who had valiantly
defended the patrimony of that monastery against certaui
encroaching nobles. It is properly termed the Blessed Bear of
Bradwardine (though old Dr. Doubleit used jocosely to call it
Ursa Major), and was supposed in old and Catholic times to be
invested with certain properties of a mystical and supernatural
quality. And though I give not in to such anilia, it is certain it
has always been esteemed a solemn standard-cup and heir-loom
of our house; nor is it ever used but upon seasons of high

WAVERLKY. 77

festival, and such I hold to be the arrival of the heir of Sir
Everard under my roof ; and I devote this draught to the health
and prosyjerity of the ancient and highly-to-be-honoured house
of Waverley."

During this long harangue he carefully decanted a cobwebbed
bottle of claret into the goblet, which held nearly an English
pint, and at the conclusion, delivering the bottle to the butler,
to be held carefully in the same angle with the horizon, he
devoutly quaffed off the contents of the Blessed Bear of Brad-
wardine.

Edward, with horror and alarm, beheld the animal making
his rounds, and thought with great anxiety upon the appropriate
motto, "Beware the Bear;" but at the same time plainly
foresaw, that as none of the guests scrupled to do him this
extraordinary honour, a refusal on his part to pledge their
courtesy would be extremely ill received. Resolving, therefore,
to submit to this last piece of tyranny, and then to quit the
table, if possible, and confiding in the strength of his constitu-
tion, he did justice to the company in the contents of the Blessed
Bear, and felt less inconvenience from the draught than he could
possibly have expected. The others, whose time had been more
actively employed, began to show symptoms of innovation, —
"the good wine did its good office.'"* The frost of etiquette,
and pride of birth, began to give way before the genial blessings
of this benign constellation, and the formal appellatives with
which the three dignitaries had hitherto addressed each other,
were now familiarly abbreviated into TuUy, Bally, and Killie.
When a few rounds had passed, the two latter, after whispering
together, craved permission (a joyful hearing for Edward) to
ask the grace-cup. This, after some delay, was at length pro-
duced, and Waverley concluded that the orgies of Bacchus were
terminated for the evening. He was never more mistaken in
his life.

As the guests had left their horses at the small inn, or
change-house, as it was called, of the village, the Baron could
not, in politeness, avoid walking with them up the avenue, and
Waverley, from the same motive, and to enjoy, after this
feverish revel, the cool summer evening, attended the party.
But when they arrived at Luckie Macleary's, the Lairds of
Balmawhapple and KUlancureit declared their determination
* Southey's Madoc

78 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

to acknowledge their sense of the hospitality of TuUy-Veolan^
by partaking with their entertainer and his guest Captain
Waverley, what they technically called deoch an doruis, a
stirrup-cup, to the honour of the Baron's roof-tree.*

It must be noticed, that the Bailie, knowing by expeiience
that the day's joviality, which had been hitherto sustained at
the expense of his patron might terminate partly at his own,
had mounted his spavined grey pony, and, between gaiety of
heart, and alarm for being hooked into a reckoning, spurred
him into a hobbling canter (a trot was out of the question),
and had already cleared the village. The others entered the
change-house, leading Edward in unresisting submission; for
his landlord whispered him, that to demur to such an overture
would be construed into a high misdemeanour against the leges
conviviales, or regulations of genial compotation. Widow Mac-
leary seemed to have expected this visit, as well she might, for
it was the usual consummation of merry bouts, not only at
Tully-Veolan, but at most other gentlemen's houses in Scotland,
Sixty Years since. The guests thereby at once acquitted
themselves of their burden of gratitude for their entertauier's
kindness, encouraged the trade of his change-house, did honour
to the place which afforded harbour to their horses, and indem-
nified themselves for the previous restraints imposed by private
hospitality, by spending, what Falstaff calls the sweet of the
night, in the genial license of a tavern.

Accordingly, in full expectation of these distinguished guests,
Luckie Macleary had swept her house for the first time this
fortnight, tempered her turf-fire to such a heat as the season
required in her damp hovel even at Midsummer, set forth her
deal table newly washed, propped its lame foot with a fragment
of turf, arranged four or five stools of huge and clumsy form,
upon the sites which best suited the inequalities of her clay
floor ; and having, moreover, put on her clean toy, rokelay, and
scarlet plaid, gravely awaited the arrival of the company, in full
hope of custom and profit. When they were seated under the
sooty rafters of Luckie Macleary's only apartment, thickly
tapestried with cobwebs, their hostess, who had already taken
her cue from the Laird of Balmawhapple, appeared with a
huge pewter measuring-pot, containing at least three English
quarts, familiarly denominated a Tappit Hen, and which, in the
* Note E. Stirrup-cup.

JVAVERLEY. 79

language of the hostess, reamed (i.e., mantled) with excellent
claret, just drawn from the cask.

It was soon plain that what crumbs of reason the Bear had
not devoured, were to be picked up by the Hen ; but the con-
fusion which appeared to prevail favoured Edward's resolution
to evade the gaily circling glass. The others began to talk
thick and at once, each performing his own part in the conver-
sation, without the least respect to his neighbour. The Baron
of Bradwardine sung French chansans-d-hoire, and spouted pieces
of Latin ; Killancureit talked, in a steady unalterable dull key,
of top-dressing and bottom-dressing,* and year-olds, and gim-
mers, and dinmonts, and stots, and runts, and kyloes, and a
proposed turnpike-act; while Balmawhapple, in notes exalted
above both, extolled his horse, his hawks, and a greyhound
called Whistler. In the middle of this din, the Baron repeatedly
implored silence ; and when at length the instinct of polite dis-
cipline so far prevailed, that for a moment he obtained it, he
hastened to beseech their attention " unto a military ariette,
which was a particular favourite of the Marechal Due de
Berwick;" then, imitating, as well as he could, the manner and
tone of a French musquetaire, he immediately commenced, —

Mon coeur volage, dit-elle, Qui porte chapeau k plume,
N'est pas pour vous, gargon ; Soulier a rouge talon,

Mais pour un homme de guerre, Que joue de la flute,
Qui a barbe au menton. Aussi du violon,

Lon, Lon, Laridon. Lon, Lon, Laridon.

Balmawhapple could hold no longer, but broke in with what
he called a d — d good song, composed by Gibby Gaethroughwi't,
the piper of Cupar; and, without wasting more time, struck

up,—

It's up Glenbarclian's braes I gaed,
And o'er the bent of Killiebraid,
And mony a weary cast I made,
To cuittle the muirf owl's tail.f

The Baron, whose voice was drowned in tlie louder and more
obstreperous strains of Balmawhapple, now dropped the compe-
tition, but continued to hum, Lon, Lon, Laridon, and to regard

* This has been censured as an anachronism ; and it must be confessed
that agriculture of this kind was unknown to the Scotch Sixty Years sinco.

+ Suum cuiqiie. This snatch of a ballad was composed by Andrew
MacDonald, the ingenious and unfortunate author of Vimonda.

80 WAVERLEY NOVEI.S.

the successful candidate for the attention of the company with
an eye of disdain, while Balmawhapple proceeded, —

If up a bonny black-cock should spring,
To whistle him down wi' a slug in his wing,
And strap him on co my lunzie string.
Right seldom would I fail.

After an ineffectual attempt to recover the second verse, he sung
the first over again ; and, in prosecution of his triumph, declared
there was " more sense in that than in all the derry-dongs of
France, and Fifeshire to the boot of it." The Baron only
answered with a long pinch of snuff, and a glance of infinite
contempt. But those noble allies, the Bear and the Hen, had
emancipated the young laird from the habitual reverence in
which he held Bradwardine at other times. He pronounced the
claret shilpit, and demanded brandy with great vociferation.
It was brought ; and now the Demon of Politics envied even
the harmony arising from this Dutch concert, merely because
there was not a wrathful note in the strange compound of
sounds which it produced. Inspired by her, the Laird of Bal-
mawhapple, now superior to the nods and winks with which the
Baron of Bradwardine, in delicacy to Edward, had hitherto
checked his entering upon political discussion, demanded a
bumper, with the lungs of a Stentor, " to the little gentleman
in black velvet who did such service in 1702, and may the
white horse break his neck over a mound of his making !"

Edward was not at that moment clear-headed enough to
remember that King William's fall, which occasioned his death,
was said to be owing to his horse stumbling at a mole-hill ; yet
felt inclined to take umbrage at a toast, which seemed, from
the glance of Balmawhapple's eye, to have a peculiar and imcivil
reference to the Government which he served. But, ere he
could interfere, the Baron of Bradwardine had taken up the
quarrel. " Sir," he said, " whatever my sentiments, tanquam
privatus, may be in such matters, I shall not tamely endure
your saying anything that may impinge upon the honourable
feelings of a gentleman under my roof. Sir, if you have no
respect for the laws of urbanity, do ye not respect the military
oath, the sacrcrnientum militare, by which every officer is bound
to the standards under which he is enrolled ? Look at Titus
Tiivius, what he says of those Roman soldiers who were so
unhappy as exuere sacramentum, — to renounce their legionary

WAVERLEY. 81

oath ; but you are ignorant, sir, alike of ancient history and
modern courtesy."

" Not so ignorant as ye would pronounce me," roared Bal-
mawhapple. " I ken weel that you mean the solemn League
and Covenant ; but if all the Whigs in hell had taken the "

Here the Baron and Waverley both spoke at once, the former
calling out, " Be silent, sir ! ye not only show your ignorance,
but disgrace your native country before a stranger and an
Englishman ; " and Waverley, at the same moment, entreating
Mr. Bradwardine to permit him to reply to an affront which
seemed levelled at him personally. But the Baron was exalted
by wine, wrath, and scorn, above all sublunary considerations.

" I crave you to be hushed. Captain Waverley ; you are
elsewhere, peradventure, sui juris, — foris-familiated, that is, and
entitled, it may be, to think and resent for yourself; but in
my domain, in this poor Barony of Bradwardine, and under
tMs roof, which is quasi mine, being held by tacit relocation by
a tenant at will, I am in loco parentis to you, and bound to see
you scathless. — And for you, Mr. Falconer of Balmawhapple,
I warn ye, let me see no more aberrations from the paths of
good manners."

" And I tell you, Mr. Cosmo Comjme Bradwardine, of Brad-
wardine and TuUy-Veolan," retorted the sportsman, in huge
disdain, '* that I'll make a moor-cock of the man that refuses
my toast, whether it be a crop-eared English Whig wi' a black
ribband at his lug, or ane wha deserts his ain friends to claw
favour wi' the rats of Hanover."

In an instant both rapiers were brandished, and some desperate
passes exchanged. Balmawhapple was young, stout, and active ;
but the Baron, infinitely more master of his weapon, would,
like Sir Toby Belch, have tickled his opponent other gates than
he did, had he not been under the influence of Ursa Major.

Edward rushed forward to interfere between the combatants,
but the prostrate bulk of the Laird of Killancureit, over which
he stumbled, intercepted his passage. How Killancureit hap-
pened to be in this recumbent posture at so interesting a
moment, was never accurately known. Some thought he was
about to ensconce himself under the table ; he himself alleged
that he stumbled in the act of lifting a joint-stool, to prevent
mischief, by knocking down Balmawhapple. Be that as it may,
if readier aid than either his or Waverley's had not interposed.
VOL. I. c;

82 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

there would certainly have been bloodshed. But the well-known
clash of swords, which was no stranger to her dwelling, aroused
Luckie Macleary as she sat quietly beyond the hallan, or earthen
partition of the cottage, with eyes employed on Boston's Crook
of the Lot, while her ideas were engaged in summing up the
reckoning. She boldly rushed in, with the shrill expostulation,
" Wad their honours slay ane another there, and bring discredit
on an honest widow-woman's house, when there was a' the lee
land in the country to fight upon?" a remonstrance which she
seconded by flinging her plaid with great dexterity over the
weapons of the combatants. The servants by this time rushed
in, and being, by great chance, tolerably sober, separated the
incensed opponents, with the assistance of Edward and Killan-
cureit. The latter led off Balmawhapple, cursing, swearing,
and vowing revenge against every Whig, Presbyterian, and
fanatic in England and Scotland, from John-o'-Groat's to the
Land's End, and with difficulty got him to horse. Our hero,
with the assistance of Saunders Saunderson, escorted the Baron
of Bradwardine to his own dwelling, but could not prevail upon
him to retire to bed until he had made a long and learned
apology for the events of the evening, of which, however, there
was not a word intelligible, except something about the Centaurs
and the Lapithse.

CHAPTER TWELFTH.

REPENTANCE AND A RECONCILIATION.

Waverley was unaccustomed to the use of wine, excepting
with great temperance. He slept therefore soimdly till late in
the succeeding morning, and then awakened to a painful recol-
lection of the scene of the preceding evening. He had received
a personal affront, — he, a gentleman, a soldier, and a Waverley.
Tnie, the person who had offered it was not, at the time it was
given, possessed of the moderate share of sense which nature
had allotted him ; true also, in resenting this insult, he would
break the laws of Heaven, as well as of his country ; true, in
doing so, he might take the life of a young man who perhaps
respectably discharged the social duties, and render his family

WAVERLEY. 83

miserable ; or he might lose his own ; — no pleasant alternative
even to the bravest, when it is debated coolly and in private.

All this pressed on his mind ; yet the original statement
recurred with the same irresistible force. He had received a
personal insult ; he was of the house of Waverley ; and he bore
a commission. There was no alternative ; and he descended to
the breakfast parlour with the intention of taking leave of the
family, and writing to one of his brother officers to meet him
at the inn mid-way between Tully-Veolan and the town where
they were quartered, in order that he might convey such a
message to the Laird of Balmawhapple as the circumstances
seemed to demand. He found Miss Bradwardine presiding over
the tea and coffee, the table loaded with warm bread, both of
flour, oatmeal, and barley-meal, in the shape of loaves, cakes,
biscuits, and other varieties, together with eggs, rein-deer ham,
mutton and beef ditto, smoked salmon, marmalade, and all
other delicacies which induced even Johnson himself to extol
the luxury of a Scotch breakfast above that of all other countries.
A mess of oatmeal porridge, flanked by a silver jug, which held
an equal mixture of cream and butter-milk, was placed for the
Baron's share of this repast ; but Rose observed he had walked
out early in the morning, after giving orders that his guest
should not be disturbed.

Waverley sat down almost in silence, and with an air of
absence and abstraction, which could not give Miss Bradwar-
dine a favoiu-able opinion of his talents for conversation. He
answered at random one or two observations which she ventured
to make upon ordinary topics ; so that feeling herself almost
repulsed in her efforts at entertaining him, and secretly wonder-
ing that a scarlet coat should cover no better breeding, she left
him to his mental amusement of cursing Dr. Doubleit's favourite
constellation of Ursa Major, as the cause of all the mischief
which had already happened, and was likely to ensue. At once
he started, and his colour heightened, as, looking toward the
window, he beheld the Baron and young Balmawhapple pass
arm in arm, apparently in deep conversation; and he hastily
asked, "Did Mr. Falconer sleep here last night?" Rose, not
much pleased with the abruptness of the first question which
the young stranger had addressed to her, answered dryly in the
negative, and the conversation again sunk into silence.

At this moment Mr. Saunderson appeared, with a message

84 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

from his master requesting to speak with Captain Waverley in
another apartment. With a heart which beat a little quicker,
not indeed from fear, but from uncertainty and anxiety, Edward
obeyed the summons. He found the two gentlemen standing
together, an air of complacent dignity on the brow of the Baron,
whUe something like suUenness, or shame, or both, blanked the
bold visage of Balmawhapple. The former slipped his arm
through that of the latter, and thus seeming to walk with him,
while in reality he led him, advanced to meet Waverley, and,
stopping in the midst of the apartment, made in great state
the following oration : " Captain Waverley, — my young and
esteemed friend, Mr. Falconer of Balmawhapple, has craved of
my age and experience, as of one not wholly unskilled in the
dependencies and punctilios of the duello or monomachia, to be
his interlocutor in expressing to you the regret with which he
calls to remembrance certain passages of our symposion last
night, which could not but be highly displeasing to you, as
serving for the time under this present existing government.
He craves you, sir, to drown in oblivion the memory of such
solecisms against the laws of politeness, as being what his better
reason disavows, and to receive the hand which he offers you in
amity ; and I must needs assure you, that nothing less than a
sense of being dans son tort, as a gallant French chevalier,
Mons. Le Bretailleur, once said to me on such an occasion, and
an opinion also of your peculiar merit, could have extorted such
concessions ; for he and all his family are, and have been time
out of mind, Mavortia pectora, as Buchanan saith, a bold and
warlike sept, or people."

Edward immediately, and with natural politeness, accepted
the hand which Balmawhapple, or rather the Baron in his
character of mediator, extended towards him. "It was im-
possible," he said, "for him to remember what a gentleman
expressed his wish he had not uttered ; and he willingly im-
puted what had passed to the exuberant festivity of the day."

" That is very handsomely said," answered the Baron ; " for
undoubtedly if a man be ehrius, or intoxicated — an incident
which, on solemn and festive occasions, may and will take place
in the life of a man of honour; and if the same gentleman,
being fresh and sober, recants the contumelies which he hath
spoken in his liquor, it must be held vinum locutum est; the
words cease to be his own. Yet would I not find this exciil

I

WAVERLEY. 86

pation r(3]evaiit in the case of one who was ehriosus, or an
habitual drunkard ; because, if such a person choose to pass the
greater part of his time in the predicament of intoxication,
he hath no title to be exeemed from the obligations of the code
of politeness, but should learn to deport himself peaceably and
courteously when under the influence of the vinous stimulus. —
And now let us pi-oceed to breakfast, and think no more of this
daft business."

I must confess, whatever inference may be drawn from the
circumstance, that Edward, after so satisfactory an explanation,
did much greater honour to the delicacies of Miss Bradwardine's
breakfast-table than his commencement had promised. Bal-
mawhapple, on the contrary, seemed embarrassed and dejected ;
and Waverley now, for the first time, observed that his arm
was in a sling, which seemed to account for the awkward and
embarrassed manner with which he had presented his hand.
To a question from Miss Bradwardine, he muttered, in answer,
something about his horse having fallen ; and, seeming desirous
to escape both from the subject and the company, he arose as
soon as breakfast was over, made his bow to tlie party, and,
declining the Baron's invitation to tarry till after dinner, mounted
his horse and returned to his own home.

Waverley now announced his purjDose of leaving Tidly-Veolan
early enough after dinner to gain the stage at which he meant
to sleep ; but the unaffected and deep mortification with which
the goodnatured and aff'ectionate old gentleman heard the pro-
posal, quite deprived him of courage to persist in it. No sooner
had he gained Waverley's consent to lengthen his visit for a
few days, than he laboured to remove the grounds upon which
he conceived he had meditated a more early retreat. " I would
not have you opine. Captain Waverley, that I am by practice
or precept an advocate of ebriety, though it may be that, in
our festivity of last night, some of our friends, if not perchance
altogether ehrii, or drunken, were, to say the least, ehrioli, by
which the ancients designed those who were fuddled, or, as
your English vernacular and metaphorical phrase goes, half-
seas-over. Not that I would so insinuate respecting you. Cap-
tain Waverley, who, like a prudent youth, did rather abstain
from potation ; nor can it be truly said of myself, who, having
assisted at the tables of many great generals and marechals at
their solemn carousals, have the art to carry my wine discreetly,

86 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

and did not, during the whole evening, as ye must have doubt
less observed, exceed the bounds of a modest hilarity."

There was no refusing assent to a proposition so decidedly laid
down by him who undoubtedly was the best judge ; although,
had Edward formed his opinion from his own recollections, he
would have pronounced that the Baron was not only ebriolus,
but verging to become ebrius ; or, in plain English, was incom-
parably the most drunk of the party, except perhaps his
antagonist the Laird of Balmawhapple. However, having
received the expected, or rather the required, compliment on his
sobriety, the Baron proceeded, — " No, sir, though I am myself
of a strong temperament, I abhor ebriety, and detest those who
swallow wine gulm causa, for the oblectation of the gullet;
albeit I might deprecate the law of Pittacus of Mitylene, who
punished doubly a crime committed under the influence of Liber
Pater ; nor would I utterly accede to the objurgation of the
younger Plinius, in the fourteenth book of his ' Historia
Naturalis.' No, sir; I distinguish, I discriminate, and approve
of wine so far only as it maketh glad the face, or, in the language
of Flaccus, recepto amico.''

Thus terminated the apology which the Baron of Bradwar-
dine thought it necessary to make for the superabundance of his
hospitality ; and it may be easily believed that he was neither
interrupted by dissent, nor any expression of incredulity.

He then invited his guest to a morning ride, and ordered
that Davie Gellatley should meet them at the dern path with
Ban and Buscar. " For, until the shooting season commenced,
I would willingly show you some sport, and we may, God will-
ing, meet with a roe. The roe. Captain Waverley, may be
hunted at all times alike; for never being in what is called
pride of grease, he is also never out of season, though it be a
truth that his venison is not equal to that of either the red or
fallow deer.* But he will ser\^e to show how my dogs run ,
and therefore they shall attend us with Davie Gellatley."

Waverley expressed his suprise that his friend Davie was
capable of such trust ; but the Baron gave him to understand
that this poor simpleton was neither fatuous nee naturaliter
idiota, as is expressed in the brieves of furiosity, but simply a

* The learned in cookery dissent from the Baron of Bradwardine, and
bold the roe-venison dry and indifferent food, unlass when dressed in soup
and Scotch collops.

I

WAVERLEY. 87

crackbrained knave, who could execute very well any commis-
sion which jumped with his own humour, and made his folly a
plea for avoiding every other. " He has made an interest with
us," continued the Baron, " by saving Rose from a great danger
with his own proper peril ; and the roguish loon must therefore
eat of our bread and drink of our cup, and do what he can, or
what he will ; which, if the suspicions of Saunderson and the
Bailie are well founded, may perchance in his case be commen-
siu-ate terms."

Miss Bradwardine then gave Waverley to understand, that
this poor simpleton was doatingly fond of music, deeply affected
by that which was melancholy, and transported into extravagant
gaiety by light and lively airs. He had in this respect a pro-
digious memory, stored with miscellaneous snatches and- frag-
ments of all tunes and songs, which he sometimes applied, with
considerable address, as the vehicles of remonstrance, expla-
nation, or satire. Davie was much attached to the few who
showed hun kindness ; and both aware of any slight or ill usage
which he happened to receive, and sufficiently apt, where he
saw opportunity, to revenge it. The common people, who often
judge hardly of each other, as well as of their betters, although
they had expressed great compassion for the poor innocent while
suffered to wander in rags about the village, no sooner beheld
him decently clothed, provided for, and even a sort of favourite,
than they called up all the instances of sharpness and ingenuity,
in action and repartee, which his annals afforded, and charitably
bottomed thereupon a hypothesis, that Davie Gellatley was no
farther fool than was necessary to avoid hard labour. This
opinion was not better founded than that of the Negroes, who,
from the acute and mischievous pranks of the monkeys, suppose
that they have the gift of speech, and only suppress their powers
of elocution to escape being set to work. But the hypothesis
was entirely imaginary. Davie Gellatley was in good earnest
the half-crazed simpleton which he appeared, and was incapable
of any constant and steady exertion. He had just so much
solidity as kept on the windy side of insanity ; so much wild wit
as saved hun from the imputation of idiocy ; some dexterity in
field sports (in which we have known as great fools excel), great
kindness and humanity in the treatment of animals entrusted to
him, warm affections, a prodigious memory, and an ear for
music.

88

WAViaiLEY NOVELS.

The stamping of horses was now heard in the court, audi
Davie's voice singing to the two large deer greyhounds, —

Hie away, hie away,
Over Lank and over brae,
Where the copsewood is the greenest,
Where the fountains glisten sheenest,
Where the lady-fern grows strongest,
Where the morning dew lies longest.
Where the black-cock sweetest sips it,
Where the fairy latest trips it ;
Hie to haunts right seldoru seen,
Lovely, lonesome, cool, and green,
Over bank and over brae,
Hie away, hie away.

" Do the verses he sings," asked Waverley, " belong to old
Scottish poetry, Miss Bradwardine ] "

" I believe not," she replied. " This poor creature had a
brother, and Heaven, as if to compensate to the family Davie's
deficiencies, had given him what the hamlet thought uncommon
talents. An uncle contrived to educate him for the Scottish
kirk, but he could not get preferment because he came from our
ground. He returned from college hopeless and broken-hearted,
and fell into a decline. My father supported him till his death,
which happened before he was nineteen. He played beautifully
on the flute, and was supposed to have a great turn for poetry.
He was affectionate and compassionate to his brother, who
followed him like his shadow, and we think that from him
Davie gathered many fragments of songs and music unlike those
of this country. But if we ask him where he got such a frag,
ment as he is now singing, he either answers with wild and long
fits of laughter, or else breaks into tears of lamentation ; but
was never heard to give any explanation, or to mention his
brother's name since his death,"

" Surely," said Edward, who was readily interested by a tale
bordering on the romantic, " surely more might be learned by
more particular inquiry."

" Perhaps so," answered Rose, " but my father will not per-
mit any one to practise on his feelings on this subject."

By this time the Baron, with the help of Mr. Saunderson,
had indued a pair of jack-boots of large dimensions, and now
invited our hero to follow him as he stalked clattering down
the ample staircase, tapping each hiiga balustrade as he passed

WAVERLEY. 89

witli the butt of his massive horse-whip, and humming, with
the air of a chasseur of Louis Quatorze,

Pour la chasse ordonnee il faut preparer tout,
Ho la ho ! Vite ! vite debout.

CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.

A MORE RATIONAL DAY THAN THE LAST.

The Baron of Bradwardine, mounted on an active and well-
managed horse, and seated on a demi-pique saddle, with deep
housings to agree with his livery, was no bad representative of
the old school. His light-coloured embroidered coat, and superb-
ly barred waistcoat, his brigadier wig, surmounted by a small
gold-laced cocked-hat, completed his personal costume ; but he
was attended by two well-mounted servants on horseback, armed
with holster-pistols.

In this guise he ambled forth over hill and valley, the
admiration of every farm-yard which they passed in their pro-
gress, till, "low dowTi in a grassy vale," they found Davie
Gellatley leading two very tall deer greyhounds, and presiding
over half-a-dozen curs, and about as many bare-legged and bare-
headed boys, who, to procure the chosen distinction of attending
on the chase, had not failed to tickle his ears with the dulcet
appellation of Maister Gellatley, though probably all and each
had hooted him on former occasions in the character of daft
Davie. But this is no uncommon strain of flattery to persons
in office, nor altogether confined to the bare-legged villagers of
Tully-Veolan : it was in fashion Sixty Years since, is now, and
will be six hundred years hence, if this admirable compound of
folly and knavery, called the world, shall be then in existence.

These gillie-ivet-foots,'^ as they were called, were destined to
beat the bushes, which they performed with so much success,
that after half-an-hour's search a roe was started, coursed, and
killed ; the Baron following on his white horse, like Earl Percy
of yore, and magnanimously flaying and embowelling the slain
animal (which, he observed, was called by the French chasseurs

* A bare-footed Highland lad is called a gillie -wet-foot. Gillie, in
general, means servant or attendaiiT,.

90 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

faire la cur^e) with his own baronial couteau de chasse. After
this ceremony he conducted his guest homeward by a pleasant
and circuitous route, commanding an extensive prospect of
different villages and houses, to each of which Mr. Bradwardine
attached some anecdote of history or genealogy, told in language
whimsical from prejudice and pedantry, but often respectable
for the good sense and honourable feelings which his narrative
displayed, and almost always curious, if not valuable, for the
information they contained.

The truth is, the ride seemed agreeable to both gentlemen,
because they found amusement in each other's conversation,
although their characters and habits of thinking were in many
respects totally opposite. Edward, we have informed the reader,
was warm in his feelings, wild and romantic in his ideas and
in his taste of reading, with a strong disposition towards poetry.
Mr. Bradwardine was the reverse of all this, and piqued himself
upon stalking through life with the same upright, starched,
stoical gravity which distinguished his evening promenade upon
the terrace of TuUy-Veolan, where for hours together, the very
model of old Hardyknute,

Stately stepped he east the wa',
And stately stepped he west.

As for literature, he read the classic poets, to be sure, and the
Epithalamium of Georgius Buchanan, and Arthur Johnston's
Psalms, of a Sunday ; and the Delicise Poetarum Scotorum, and
Sir David Lindsay's Works, and Barbour's Bruce, and Blind
Harry's Wallace, and the Gentle Shepherd, and the Cherry and
the Slae. But though he thus far sacrificed his time to the
Muses, he would, if the truth must be spoken, have been much
better pleased had the pious or sapient apothegms, as well as
the historical narratives, which these various works contained,
been presented to him in the form of simple prose. And he
sometimes could not refrain from expressing contempt of the
" vain and unprofitable art of poem-making," in which, he said,
" the only one who had excelled in his time was Allan Kamsay.
the periwig-maker." *

* The Baron ought to have remembered that the joyous Allan literally
drew his blood from the house of the noble Earl, whom he terraa
Dalhousie of an old descent,
My stoup, my pride, ray ornament.

WAVERLEY. 91

But although Edward and he differed toto ccelo, as the Baron
would have said, upon this subject, yet they met upon history
as on a neutral ground, in which each claimed an interest.
The Baron, indeed, only cumbered his memory with matters of
fact — the cold, dry, hard outlines which history delineates.
Edward, on the contrary, loved to fill up and round the sketch
with the colouring of a warm and vivid imagination, which
gives light and life to the actors and speakers in the drama of
past ages. Yet with tastes so opposite, they contributed greatly
to each other's amusement. Mr. Bradwardine's minute narra-
tives and powerful memory supplied to Waverley fresh subjects
of the kind upon which his fancy loved to labour, and opened
to him a new mine of incident and of character. And he
repaid the pleasure thus communicated by an earnest attention,
valuable to all story-tellers, more especially to the Baron, who
felt his habits of self-respect flattered by it ; and sometimes also
by reciprocal communications, which interested Mr. Bradwar-
dine, as confirming or illustrating his own favourite anecdotes.
Besides, Mr. Bradwardine loved to talk of the scenes of his
youth, which had been spent in camps and foreign lands, and
had many interesting particulars to tell of the generals under
whom he had served, and the actions he had witnessed.

Both parties returned to Tully-Veolan in great good humom
svith each other; Waverley desirous of studying more atten-
tively what he considered as a singular and interesting character,
gifted with a memory containing a curious register of ancient
and modem anecdotes ; and Bradwardine disposed to regard
Edward as puer (or rather juvenis) honce spei et magnce indolis,
a youth devoid of that petulant volatility which is impatient of,
or vilipends, the conversation and advice of his seniors, from
which he predicted great things of his future success and
iieportment in life. There was no other guest except Mr.
Kubrick, whose information and discourse, as a clergyman and
a scholar, harmonized very well with that of the Baron and his
guest.

Shortly after dinner, the Baron, as if to show that his
temperance was not entirely theoretical, proposed a visit to
Rose's apartment, or, as he termed it, her Troisieme Etage.
Waverley was accordingly conducted through one or two of
those long awkward passages with which ancient architects
studied to puzzle the inhabitants of the houses which they

92 WAVERLEY NOVELS

planned, at the end of which Mr. Bradwardine began to ascend,
by two steps at once, a very steep, narrow, and winding stair^
leaving Mr. Kubrick and Waverley to follow at more leisure,
while he should announce their approach to his daughter.

After having climbed this perpendicular corkscrew until their
brains were almost giddy, they arrived in a little matted lobby,
which served as an ante-room to Kose's sanctum sanctorum, and
through which they entered her parlour. It was a small but
pleasant apartment, opening to the south, and hung with tape-
stry ; adorned besides with two pictiu-es, one of her mother, in
the dress of a shepherdess, with a bell-hoop ; the other of the
Baron, in his tenth year, in a blue coat, embroidered waistcoat,
laced hat, and bag- wig, with a bow in his hand. Edward could
not help smiling at the costume, and at the odd resemblance
between the round, smooth, red-cheeked, staring visage in the
portrait, and the gaunt, bearded, hollow-eyed, swarthy features,
which travelling, fatigues of war, and advanced age, had be-
stowed on the original. The Baron joined in the laugh.
" Truly," he said, " that pictiu:e was a woman's fantasy of my
good mother's (a daughter of the Laird of Tulliellum, Captain
Waverley ; I indicated the house to you when we were on the
top of the Shinnyheuch ; it was burnt by the Dutch auxiliaries
brought in by the Government in 1715) ; I never sate for my
pourtraicture but once since that was painted, and it was at the
special and reiterated request of the Marechal Duke of Berwick."

The good old gentleman did not mention what Mr. Kubrick
afterwards told Edward, that the Duke had done him this
honour on account of his being the first to mount the breach of
a fort in Savoy during the memorable campaign of 1709, and
his having there defended himself with his half-pike for nearly
ten minutes before any support reached him. To do the Baron
justice, although sufficiently prone to dwell upon, and even to
exaggerate, his family dignity and consequence, he was too much
a man of real courage ever to allude to such personal acts of
merit as he had himself manifested.

Miss Kose now appeared from the interior room of her
apartment, to welcome her father and his friends. The little
labours in which she had been employed obviously showed a
natural taste, which required only cultivation. Her father had
taught her French and Italian, and a few of the ordinary authors
in those languages ornamented her shelves. He had endeavoured

WAVERLEY 93

also to bo her preceptor in music ; but as he began with the
more abstruse doctrines of the science, and was not perhaps
master of them himself, she had made no proficiency farther
than to be able to accompany her voice with the hai-psichord -,
but even this was not very common in Scotland at that period.
To make amends, she sung with great taste and feeling, and
with a respect to the sense of what she uttered that might be
proposed in example to ladies of much superior musical talent.
Her natural good sense taught her, that if, as we are assured by
high authority, music be "married to immortal verse," they
are very often divorced by the performer in a most shameful
manner. It was perhaps owing to this sensibility to poetry,
and power of combining its expression with those of the musical
notes, that her singing gave more pleasure to all the unlearned
in music, and even to many of the learned, than could have
been communicated by a much finer voice and more brilliant
execution, unguided by the same delicacy of feeling.

A bartizan, or projecting gallery, before the window^s of her
parlour, served to illustrate another of Rose's pursuits ; for it
was crowded with flowers of difi'erent kinds, which she had
taken under her special protection. A projecting turret gave
access to this Gothic balcony, which commanded a most beau-
tiful prospect. The formal garden, with its high boimding
walls, lay below, contracted, as it seemed, to a mere parterre -,
while the view extended beyond them down a wooded glen,
where the small river was sometimes visible, sometimes hidden
in copse. The eye might be delayed by a desire to rest on the
rocks, which here and there rose from the dell with massive or
spiry fronts, or it might dwell on the noble, though ruined
tower, which wa« here beheld in all its dignity, frowning from
a promontory over the river. To the left were seen two or
three cottages, a part of the village ; the brow of the hill con-
cealed the others. The glen, or dell, was terminated by a sheet
of water, called Loch-Yeolan, into which the brook discharged
itself, and which now glistened in the western sun. The distant
country seemed open and varied in surface, though not wooded ;
and there was nothing to interrupt the view until the scene was
bounded by a ridge of distant and blue hills, which formed the
southern boundary of the strath or valley. To this pleasant
station Miss Bradwardine had ordered coffee.

The view of the old tower, or fortalice, introduced some family

94 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

anecdotes and tales of Scottish chivalry, which the Baron told
with great enthusiasm. The projecting peak of an impending
crag which rose near it, had acquired the name of St. Swithin's
Chair. It was the scene of a peculiar superstition, of which
Mr. Kubrick mentioned some curious particulars, which reminded
Waverley of a rhyme quoted by Edgar in King Lear ; and Rose
was called upon to sing a little legend, in which they had been
interwoven by some village poet.

Who, noteless as the race from which he sprang,
Saved others' names, but left his own unsung.

The sweetness of her voice, and the simple beauty of her
music, gave all the advantage which the minstrel could have
desired, and which his poetry so much wanted. I almost doubt
if it can be read with patience, destitute of these advantages :
although I conjecture the following copy to have been some-
what corrected by Waverley, to suit the taste of those who
might not relish pure antiquity : —

On Hallow-Mass Eve, ere ye boune ye to rest,
Ever beware that yom- couch be blessed ;
Sign it with cross, and sain it with bead,
Sing the Ave, and say the Creed.

For on Hallow- Mass Eve the Night-Hag will ride,
J And all her nine-fold sweeping on by her side,

Whether the wind sing lowly or loud.
Sailing through moonshine or swathed in the cloud.

The Lady she sat in St. Swithin's Chair,
The dew of the night has damped her hair :
Her cheek was pale — but resolved and high
Was the word of her lip and the glance of her eye.

She muttered the spell of Swithin bold,
When his naked foot traced the midnight wold,
When he stopped the Hag as she rode the night,
And bade her descend, and her promise plight.

He that dare sit on St. Swithin's Chair,
When the Night-Hag wings the troubled air,
Questions three, when he speaks the spell,
He may ask, and she must tell.

The Baron has been with King Robert his liege,
These three long years in battle and siege ;

WAVE RLE Y. 96

News are there none of his weal or his woe,
And fain the Lady his fate would know.

She shudders and stops as the charm she speaks j —
Is it the moody owl that shrieks ?
Or is it that sound, betwixt laughter and scream,
The voice of the Demon who haunts the stream ?

The moan of the wind sunk silent and low.

And the roaring torrent ceased to flow ;

The calm was more dreadful than raging storm,

When the cold grey mist brought the ghastly form !

" I am sorry to disappoint the company, especially Captain
Waverley, who listens with such laudable gravity ; it is but a
fragment, although I think there are other verses, describing
the return of the Baron from the wars, and how the lady was
found ' clay-cold upon the grounsill ledge.'"

"It is one of those figments," observed Mr. Bradwardine,
"with which the early history of distinguished families was
deformed in the times of superstition ; as that of Rome, and
other ancient nations, had their prodigies, sir, the which you
Qiay read in ancient histories, or in the little work compiled by
Julius Obsequens, and inscribed by the learned Scheffer, the
editor, to his patron, Benedictus S%tte, Baron of Dudershoff."

" Lly father has a strange defiance of the marvellous, Captain
AVaverley," observed Rose, " and once stood firm when a whole
synod of Presbyterian divines were put to the rout by a sudden
apparition of the foul fiend."

Waverley looked as if desirous to hear more.

"Must I toll my story as well as sing my song? — Well. —
Once upon a time there lived an old woman, called Janet Gel-
latley, who was suspected to be a witch, on the infallible grounds
that she was very old, very ugly, very poor, and had two sons,
one of whom was a poet, and the other a fool, which visitation,
all the neighbourhood agreed, had come upon her for the sin of
witchcraft. And she was imprisoned for a week in the steeple
of the parish church, and sparingly supplied with food, and not
permitted to sleep, until she herself became as much persuaded
of her being a witch as her accusers; and in this lucid and
happy state of mind was brought forth to make a clean breast,
that is, to make open confession of her sorceries, before all the
Whig gentry and ministers in the vicinity, who were no con

96 WAVERLBY NOVELS.

jurors themselves. My father went to see fair play between
the witch and the clergy ; for the Avitch had been born on his
estate. And while the witch was confessing that the Enemy
appeared, and made his addresses to her as a handsome black
man, — which, if you could have seen poor old blear-eyed Janet,
reflected little honour on ApoUyon's taste, — and while the
auditors listened with astonished ears, and the clerk recorded
with a trembling hand, she, all of a sudden, changed the low
mumbling tone with which she spoke into a shrill yell, and
exclaimed, ' Look to yourselves ! look to yourselves ! I see the
Evil One sitting in the midst of ye.' The surprise was general,
and terror and flight its immediate consequences. Happy were
those who were next the door ; and many were the disasters
that befell hats, bands, cuffs, and wigs, before they could get
out of the church, where they left the obstinate prelatist to
settle matters with the witch and her admirer, at his own peril
or pleasure."

" Risu solvuntur tahulcc" said the Baron : "when they reco-
vered their panic trepidation, they v/ere too much ashamed to
bring any wakening of the process against Janet Gellatley."*

This anecdote led to a long discussion of

All those idle thoughts and fantasies,
Devices, dreams, opinions unsound.
Shows, visions, soothsays, and prophecies,

And all that feigned is, as leasings, tales, and lies.

With such conversation, and the romantic legends which it
produced, closed our hero's second evening in the house of
Tully-Veolan.

* The story last told was said to have happened in the south of Scotland ;
but cedant at'ma togce — and let the gown have its dues. It was an old
clergyman, who had wisdom and firmness enough to resist the panic which
seized his brethren, who was the means of rescuing a poor insane creature
from the cruel fate which would otherwise have overtaken her. The
accounts of the trials for witchcraft form one of the most deplorable
chapters in Scottish story.

WAVERLEY. 97

CHAPTER FOURTEENTH.

A DISCOVERY — WAVERLEY BECOMES DOMESTICATED AT
TULLY-VEOLAN.

The next day Edward arose betimes, and in a morning walk
aroimd tlie house and its vicinity, came suddenly upon a small
court in front of the dog-kennel, where his friend Davie was
employed about his four-footed charge. One quick glance of
his eye recognised Waverley, when, instantly turning his back,
as if he had not observed him, he began to sing part of an old
ballad : —

Young men will love thee more fair and more fast ;
Heard ye so merry the little bird sing ?

Old men's love the longest will last,

And the throstle-cock's head is under his loing.

The young man's wrath is like light straw on fire ;

Heard ye so merry the little bird sing 1
But like red-hot steel is the old man's ire,

And the throstle-cock^ s head is under his wing.

The young man will brawl at the evening board ;

Heard ye so merry the little bird sing ?
But the old man will draw at the dawning the sword.

And the throstle-cock's head is under his uring.

Waverley coidd not avoid observing that Davie laid something
like a satirical emphasis on these lines. He therefore approached,
and endeavoured, by sundiy queries, to elicit from him what
the innuendo might mean ; but Davie had no mind to explain,
and had wit enough to make his folly cloak his knavery.
Edward could collect nothiiig from him, excepting that the
Laird of Balmawhapple had gone home yesterday morning
"wi' his boots fu' 0' bluid." In the garden, however, he met
the old butler, who no longer attempted to conceal that, having
been bred in the nursery luie with Sumack and Co. of Newcastle,
he sometimes wrought a tm-n in the flower-borders to oblige the
Laii'd and Miss Rose. By a series of queries, Edward at length
discovered, with a painful feeling of surprise and shame, that
Balmawhapple's submission and apology had been the conse-
quence of a rencontre with the Baron before his guest had quitted

VOL. L H

98 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

his pillow, in which the younger combatant had been disarmed
and wounded in the sword-arm.

Greatly mortified at this information, Edward sought out his
friendly host, and anxiously expostulated with him upon the
injustice he had done him in anticipating his meeting with Mr.
Falconer, a circumstance which, considering his youth and the
profession of arms which he had just adopted, was capable of
being represented much to his prejudice. The Baron justified
himself at greater length than I choose to repeat. He urged
that the quarrel was common to them, and that Balmawhapple
could not, by the code of honour, evite giving satisfaction to
both, which he had done in his case by an honourable meeting,
and in that of Edward by such a ^palinode as rendered the use
of the sword unnecessary, and which, being made and accepted,
must necessarily s(ypite the whole affair.

With this excuse or explanation Waverley was silenced, if
not satisfied ; but he could not help testifying some displeasure
against the Blessed Bear which had given rise to the quarrel,
nor refrain from hinting that the sanctified epithet was hardly
appropriate. The Baron observed, he could not deny that " the
Bear, though allowed by heralds as a most honourable ordinary,
had, nevertheless, somewhat fierce, churlish, and morose in his
disposition (as might be read in Archibald Simson, pastor of
Dalkeith's HieroglypMca Animaliwm), and had thus been the
type of many quarrels and dissensions which had occurred in
the house of Bradwardiae ; of which," he continued, " I might
commemorate mine own unfortunate dissension with my third
cousin by the mother's side, Sir Hew Halbert, who was so
unthinking as to deride my family name, as if it had been qiLasi
Bear-warden; a most uncivil jest, since it not only insinuated
that the founder of our house occupied such a mean situation
as to be a custodier of wild beasts, a charge which, ye must
have observed, is only entrusted to the very basest plebeians,
but, moreover, seemed to infer that our coat-armour had not
been achieved by honourable actions ia war, but bestowed by
way of paranomasia, or pun upon our family appellation — a
sort of bearing which the French call armoires parlantes ; the
Latins, ai^ma cantantia; and your English authorities, canting
heraldry ; being indeed a species of emblazoning more befitting
canters, gaberkmzies, and suchlike mendicants, whose gibberish
is formed upon playing upon the word, than the noble, honour

WAVERLEY. 99

able, and iisnful science of lieraldry, which assigns armorial
bearings as the reward of noble and generous actions, and not
to tickle the ear with vain quodlibets, such as are found in jest-
books." * Of his quarrel with Sir Hew, he said nothing more
than that it was settled in a fitting manner.

Having been so minute with respect to the diversions of
TuUy-Veolan, on the first days of Edward's arrival, for the
purpose of introducing its inmates to the reader's acquaintance,
it becomes less necessary to trace the progress of his intercourse
with the same accuracy. It is probable that a young man
accustomed to more cheerful society would have tired of the
conversation of so violent an assertor of the " boast of heraldry"
as the Baron ; but Edward found an agreeable variety in that
of Miss Bradwardine, who listened with eagerness to his remarks
upon literatiu-e, and showed great justness of taste in her answers.
The sweetness of her disposition had made her submit with
complacency, and even pleasure, to the course of reading pre-
scribed by her father, although it not only comprehended several
heavy folios of history, but certain gigantic tomes in high chiu-ch
polemics. In heraldry he was fortunately contented to give her
only such a slight tincture as might be acquired by perusal of
the two folio volumes of Nisbet. Rose was indeed the very apple
of her father's eye. Her constant liveliness, her attention to all
those little observances most gi-atifying to those who would
never think of exacting them, her beauty, in which he recalled
tlie features of his beloved wife, her unfeigned piety, and the
noble generosity of her disposition, would have justified the
aff'ection of the most doting father.

His anxiety on her behalf did not, however, seem to extend
itself in that quarter, where, according to the general opinion,
it is most efficiently displayed ; in labouring, namely, to establish
her in life, either by a large dowiy or a wealthy marriage. By

* Although canting heraldry is generally reprobated, it seems neverthe-
less to have been adopted in the arms and mottoes of many honourable
families. Thus the motto of the Vernons, Ver non semper viret, is a perfect
pun, and so is that of the Onslows, Festina lente. The Periissem ni 2^eT-
iissem of the Anstruthers is liable to a similar objection. One of that
ancient race, finding that an antagonist, with whom he had fixed a friendly
meeting, was determined to take the opportunity of assassinating him, pre-
vented the hazard by dashing out his brains with a battle-axe. Two sturdy
arms brandishing such a weapon form the usual crest of the family, with the
above motto — Periissem ni ver-iissem — T had died, unless I hjid {»one
through ■with it.

100 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

dn old settlement, almost all the landed estates of the Baron
went, after his death, to a distant relation ; and it was supposed
that Miss Bradwardine would remain but slenderly provided for,
as the good gentleman's cash matters had been too long under
the exclusive charge of Bailie Macwheeble, to admit of any
great expectations from his personal succession. It is true,
the said Bailie loved his patron and his patron's daughter next
(although at an incomparable distance) to himself He thought
it was possible to set aside the settlement on the male line, and
had actually procured an opinion to that effect (and, as he
boasted, without a fee) from an eminent Scottish counsel, under
whose notice he contrived to bring the point while consulting
him regularly on some other business. But the Baron would
not listen to such a proposal for an instant. On the contrarj^,
he used to have a perverse pleasure in boasting that the barony
of Bradwardine was a male fief, the first charter having been
given at that early period when women were not deemed capable
to hold a feudal grant ; because, according to Les coustusmes de
Normandie, c'est Vhomme hi se hast et hi conseille ; or, as is yet
more imgallantly expressed by other authorities, all of whose

- , \ barbarous names he delighted to quote at full length, because

Vv ^^"-"^ a woman could not serve the superior, or feudal lord, in war,

^'^ on account of the decorum of her sex, nor assist him with advice,

because of her limited intellect, nor keep his counsel, owing to
the infii'mity of her disposition. He would triumphantly ask,
how it would become a female, and that female a Bradwardine,
to be seen employed in servitio exuendi, seu detrahendi, caligas
regis post hattaliam ? that is in pulling off the king's boots after
an engagement, which was the feudal service by which he held

•5^ the barony of Bradwardine. ^' No," he said, " beyond hesitation,

procul diihio, many females, as worthy as Rose, had been ex-
cluded, in order to make way for my own succession, and
Heaven forbid that I sliould do aught that might contravene
the destination of my forefathers, or impinge upon the right of
my kinsman, Malcolm Bradwardine of Inchgrabbit, an honoui'-
able though decayed branch of my own family."

The Bailie, as prime minister, having received this decisive
communication from his sovereign, durst not press his own
opinion any farther, but contented himself with deploring, on
all suitable occasions, to Saunderson, the minister of the interior,
the Laird's self-willedness, and with laying plans for uniting

WAVERLEY. 101

liose with the young laird of Balniawhapple, who had a fine
estate, only moderately burdened, and was a faultless young
gentleman, being as sober as a saint — if you keep brandy from
him, and him from brandy — and who, in brief, had no imper-
fection but that of keeping light company at a time ; such as
Jinker, the horse-couper, and Gibby Gaethroughwi't, the piper
o' Cupar ; '' o' whilk follies, Mr. Saunderson, he'll mend, he'll
mend," — pronounced the Bailie.

" Like sour ale in simmer," added Davie Gellatley, who hap-
pened to be nearer the conclave than they were aware of.

Miss Bradwardine, such as we have described her, with all
the simplicity and curiosity of a recluse, attached herself to the
opportunities of increasing her store of literature which Edward's
visit afforded her. He sent for some of his books from his
quarters, and they opened to her sources of delight of which she
had hitherto had no idea. The best English poets, of every
description, and other works on belles lettres, made a part of this
precious cargo. Her music, even her flowers, were neglected,
and Saunders not only mourned over, but began to mutiny
against, the labour for which he now scarce received thanks.
These new pleasures became gradually enhanced by sharing
them with one of a kindred taste. Edward's readiness to
comment, to recite, to explain difficult passages, rendered his
assistance invaluable; and the wild romance of his spirit
delighted a character too young and inexperienced to observe
its deficiencies. Upon subjects which interested him, and when
quite at ease, he possessed that flow of natural, and somewhat
liorid eloquence, which has been supposed as powerful even as
figure, fashion, fame, or fortime, in winning the female heart.
There was, therefore, an increasing danger in this constant
intercourse, to poor Kose's peace of mind, which was the more
imminent, as her father was greatly too much abstracted in
his studies, and wi'apped up in his own dignity, to dream of
his daughter's incurring it. The daughters of the house of
Bradwardine were, in his opinion, like those of the house of
Bourbon or Austria, placed high above the clouds of passion
which might obfuscate the intellects of meaner females ; they
moved in another sphere, were governed by other feelings, and
amenable to other rules, than those of idle and fantastic
affection. In short, he shut his eyes so resolutely to the
natural consequences of Edward's intimacy with Miss Brad war-

102 WAVEIILEY NOVELS.

dine, that the whole neighbourhood concluded that he had
opened them to the advantages of a match between his daughter
and the wealthy yoimg Englishman, and pronounced him much
less a fool then he had generally shown himself in cases where
his own interest was concerned.

If the Baron, however, had really meditated such an alliance,
the indifference of Waverley would have been an insuperable
bar to his project. Our hero, since mixing more freely with the
world, had learned to think with great shame and confusion
upon his mental legend of Saint Cecilia, and the vexation of
these reflections was likely, for some time at least, to counter-
balance the natural susceptibility of his disposition. Besides,
Rose Bradwardine, beautiful and amiable as we have described
her, had not precisely the sort of beauty or merit which cap-
tivates a romantic imagination in early youth. She was too
frank, too confiding, too kind ; amiable qualities, undoubtedly,
but destructive of the marvellous, with which a youth of ima-
gination delights to address the empress of his affections. Was
it possible to bow, to tremble, and to adore, before the timid,
yet playful little girl, who now asked Edward to mend her
pen, now to construe a stanza in Tasso, and now how to spell a
very — ^very long word in her version of it 1 All these incidents
have their fascination on the mind at a certaia period of life,
but not when a youth is entering it, and rather looking out for
some object whose affection may dignify him in his own eyes,
than stooping to one who looks up to him for such distinction.
Hence, though there can be no rule in so capricious a passion,
early love is frequently ambitious in choosing its object ; or.
which comes to the same, selects her (as in the case of Saint
Cecilia aforesaid) from a situation that gives fair scope for le
beau idSal, which the reality of intimate and familiar life rather
tends to limit and impair. I knew a very accomplished and
sensible young man cured of a violent passion for a pretty
woman, whose talents were not equal to her face and figure, by
being permitted to bear her company for a whole afternoon.
Thus it is certain, that had Edward enjoyed such an oppor-
tunity of conversing with Miss Stubbs, Aunt Rachel's precaution
would have been unnecessary, for he would as soon have fallen
in love with the dairy-maid. And although Miss Bradwardine
was a very different character, it seems probable that the very
intimacy of their intercourse prevented his feeling for her other

WAVERLEY. 103

sentiments than those of a brother for an amiable and accom-
plished sister ; while the sentiments of poor Rose were gradually,
and without her being conscious, assuming a shade of warmer
affection.

I ought to have said that Edward, when he sent to Dundee
for the books before mentioned, had applied for, and received
permission, extending his leave of absence. But the letter of
his commanding-officer contained a friendly recommendation
to him, not to spend his time exclusively with persons, who,
estimable as they might be in a general sense, could not be
supposed well affected to a government which they declined to
acknowledge by taking the oath of allegiance. The letter
further insinuated, though with great delicacy, that although
some family connections might be supposed to render it neces-
sary for Captain Waverley to communicate with gentlemen
who were in this unpleasant state of suspicion, yet his father's
situation and wishes ought to prevent his prolonging those
attentions into exclusive intimacy. And it was intimated, that
while his political principles were endangered by commimi-
cating with laymen of this description, he might also receive
erroneous impressions in religion from the prelatic clergy, who
so perversely laboured to set up the royal prerogative in things
sacred.

This last insinuation probably induced Waverley to set both
down to the prejudices of his commanding-officer. He was
sensible that Mr. Bradwardine had acted with the most scru-
pulous delicacy, in never entering upon any discussion that had
the most remote tendency to bias his mind in political opinions,
although he was himself not only a decided partizan of the
exiled family, but had been trusted at different times with
important commissions for their service. Sensible, therefore,
that there was no risk of his being perverted from his allegiance,
Edward felt as if he should do his uncle's old friend injusticft
in removing from a house where he gave and received pleasure
and amusement, merely to gratify a prejudiced and ill-judged
suspicion. He therefore wrote a very general answer, assuring
liis commanding-officer that his loyalty was not in the most
distant danger of contamination, and continued an honoured
guest and inmate of the house of Tully-Veolau.

104 \VA.VEKLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER FIFTEENTH.

A CREAGH,* AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.

When Edward had been a guest at TuUy-Veolan nearly six
weeks, he descried one mornmg, as he took his usual walk
before the breakfast-hour, signs of uncommon perturbation in
the family. Four bare-legged dairy-maids, with each an empty
milk-pail in her hand, ran about with frantic gestures, and
uttering loud exclamations of surprise, grief, and resentment.
From their appearance, a pagan might have conceived them a
detachment of the celebrated Belides, just come from their
baling penance. As nothing was to be got from this distracted
chorus, excepting " Lord guide us ! " and " Eh sirs ! " ejacu-
lations which threw no light upon the cause of their dismay,
Waverley repaired to the fore-court, as it was called, where he
beheld Bailie Macwheeble cantering his white pony down the
avenue with all the speed it could muster. He had arrived, it
would seem, upon a hasty summons, and was followed by half-
a-score of peasants from the village, who had no great difficulty
in keeping pace with him.

The Bailie, greatly too busy, and too important, to enter into
explanations with Edward, summoned forth Mr. Saunderson,
who appeared with a countenance in which dismay was mingled
with solemnity, and they immediately entered into close con-
ference. Davie Gellatley was also seen in the group, idle as
Diogenes at Sinope, while his countrymen were preparing for
a siege. His spirits always rose with anything, good or bad,
which occasioned tmnult, and he continued frisking, hopping,
dancing, and singing the burden of an old ballad.

Our gear's a' gane,
until, happening to pass too near the Bailie, he received an
admonitory hint from his horse-whip, which converted his songs
into lamentation.

Passing from thence towards the garden, Waverley beheld
the Baron in person, measuring and re-measuring, with swift
and tremendous strides, the length of the terrace ; his counte-
nance clouded with offended pride and indignation, and the
* A creagh was an incursion for pluiKler, termed on the Borders a raid.

WAVERLEY. 106

whole of his demeauoiir such as seemed to indicate, that any
mquiry concerning tlie cause of his discomposure would give
pain at least, if not offence. Waverley therefore glided into
the house, without addressing him, and took his way to the
breakfast-parlour, where he found his young friend Rose, who,
though she neither exhibited the resentment of her father, the
turbid importance of Bailie Macwheeble, nor the despair of the
handmaidens, seemed vexed and thoughtful. A single word
explained the mystery. " Your breakfast will be a disturbed
one. Captain Waverley. A party of Caterans have come down
upon us, last night, and have driven off all our milch cows."

" A party of Caterans V

" Yes ; robbers from the neighbouring Highlands. We used
to be quite free from them while we paid black-mail to Fergus
Mac-Ivor Vich Ian Vohr ; but my father thought it unworthy
of his rank and birth to pay it any longer, and so this disaster
has happened. It is not the value of the cattle. Captain
Waverley, that vexes me ; but my father is so much hurt at
the affront, and is so bold and hot, that I fear he will try to
recover them by the strong hand ; and if he is not hurt himself,
he will hurt some of these wild people, and then there will be
no peace between them and us perhaps for our lifetime ; and
we cannot defend oiu"selves as in old times, for the government
have taken all our arms ; and my dear father is so rash — Oh,
what will become of us !" Here poor Rose lost heart alto-
gether, and burst into a flood of tears.

The Baron entered at this moment, and rebuked her with
more asperity than Waverley had ever heard him use to any
one. " Was it not a shame," he said, " that she should exhibit
herself before any gentleman in such a light, as if she shed tears
for a drove of horned nolt and milch kine, like the daughter of
a Cheshire yeoman ; Captain Waverley, I must request your
favourable construction of her grief, which may, or ought to
proceed, solely from seeing her father's estate exposed to spulzie
and depredation from common thieves and somers,* while we
are not allowed to keep half-a-score of muskets, whether for
defence or rescue."

Bailie Macwheeble entered immediately afterwards, and by

* Sorners may be translated sturdy beggars, more especially indicating
those unwelcome visitors who exact lodgings and victuals by force, or some
thing approaching to it.

106 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

his report of arms and ammunition confirmed this statement,
informing the Baron, in a melancholy voice, that though the
people would certainly obey his honour's orders, yet there was
no chance of their following the gear to ony guid purpose, in
respect there were only his honour's body servants who had
swords and pistols, and the depredators were twelve Highlanders,
completely armed after the manner of their coimtry. — Having
delivered this doleful annunciation, he assumed a posture of
silent dejection, shaking his head slowly with the motion of a
pendulum when it is ceasing to vibrate, and then remained
stationary, his body stooping at a more acute angle than usual,
and the latter part of his person projecting in proportion.

The Baron, meanwhile, paced the room in silent indignation,
and at length fixing his eye upon an old portrait, whose person
was clad in armour, and whose features glared grimly out of a
huge bush of hair, part of which descended from his head to
his shoulders, and part from his chin and upper-lip to his
breast-plate, — " That gentleman. Captain Waverley, my grand-
sire," he said, " with two hundred horse, whom he levied mthin
his own bounds, discomfited and put to the rout more than five
hundred of these Highland reivers, who have been ever Ici'pis
offensionis, et petra scandali, a stumbling-block and a rock of
offence to the Lowland vicinage — he discomfited them, I say,
when they had the temerity to descend to harry this country
in the time of the civil dissensions, in the year of grace sixteen
hundred forty and two. And now, sir, I, his grandson, am
thus used at such unworthy hands !"

Here there was an awful pause; after which all the com-
pany, as is usual in cases of difficulty, began to give separate
and inconsistent counsel. Alexander ab Alexandro proposed
they should send some one to compound with the Caterans,
who would readily, he said, give up their prey for a dollar
a-head. The Bailie opined that this transaction would amount
to theft-boot, or composition of felony; and he recommended
that some canny hand should be sent up to the glens to make
the best bargain he could, as it were for himself, so that the
laird might not be seen in such a transaction. Edward pro-
posed to send off to the nearest garrison for a party of soldiers
and a magistrate's warrant ; and Kose, as far as she dared,
endeavoured to insinuate the course of paying the arrears of
tiibute money to Fergus Mac-Ivor Vich Ian Vohr, who. they

WAVERLEY. 107

all knew, could easily procure restoratiou of the cattle, if he
were properly propitiated.

None of these proposals met the Baron's approbation. The
idea of composition, direct or implied, was absolutely ignomi-
nious ; that of Waverley only showed that he did not under-
stand the state of the country, and of the political parties which
divided it ; and, standing matters as they did with Fergus
Mac-Ivor Vich Ian Vohr, the Baron would make no concession
to him, were it, he said, " to procm-e restitution in integrum of
eveiy stirk and stot that the chief, his forefathers, and his clan,
had stolen since the days of Malcolm Canmore."

In fact, his voice was still for war, and he proposed to send
expresses to Balmawhapple, Killancm-eit, Tulliellum, and other
lairds, who were exposed to similar depredations, inviting them
to join in the pursuit ; " and then, sir, shall these nebulones
nequissimi, as Leslseus calls them, be brought to the fate of
their predecessor Cacus.

* Elisos oculos, et siccum sanguine guttur.' "

The Bailie, who by no means relished these warlike counsels,
here pulled forth an immense watch, of the colour, and nearly
of the size, of a pewter warming-pan, and observed it was now
past noon, and that the Caterans had been seen in the pass of
Bally-Brough soon after sunrise ; so that before the allied forces
could assemble, they and their prey would be far beyond the
reach of the most active pursuit, and sheltered in those pathless
deserts where it was neither advisable to follow, nor indeed
possible to trace them.

This proposition was undeniable. The council therefore broke
up without coming to any conclusion, as has occiured to councils
of more importance; only it was determmed that the Bailie
should send his own three milk-cows down to the Mains for the
use of the Baron's family, and brew small ale, as a substitute
for milk, in his own. To this arrangement, which was suggested
by Saunderson, the Bailie readily assented, both from habitual
deference to the family, and an internal consciousness that his
courtesy would, in some mode or other, be repaid ten-fold.

The Baron having also retired to give some necessary direo-
tions, Waverley seized the opportunity to ask, whether this
Fergus, with the unpronounceable name, was the chief thief
taker of the district.

108 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

"Thief-taker!" answered Kose, laughing; "he is a gentle-
man of great honour and consequence ; the chieftain of an in-
dependent branch of a powerful Highland clan, and is much
respected, both for his own power, and that of his kith, kin,
and allies."

"And what has he to do with the thieves, then? is he a
magistrate, or in the commission of the peace ?" asked Waverley.

" The commission of war rather, if there be such a thing,"
said Kose ; "for he is a very unquiet neighbour to his un-friends,
and keeps a greater following on foot than many that have
thrice his estate. As to his connection with the thieves, that I
cannot well explain ; but the boldest of them will never steal a
hoof from any one that pays black-mail to Vich Ian Vohr."

" And what is black-mail ?"

" A sort of protection-money that Low-country gentlemen
and heritors, lying near the Highlands, pay to some Highland
chief, that he may neither do them harm himself, nor suffer it
to be done to them by others ; and then, if your cattle are
stolen, you have only to send him word, and he will recover
them ; or it may be, he will drive away cows from some distant
place, where he has a quarrel, and give them to you to make
up your loss."

" And is this sort of Highland Jonathan "Wild admitted into
society, and called a gentleman?"

" So much so," said Rose, " that the quarrel between my
father and Fergus Mac-Ivor began at a county meeting, where
he wanted to take precedence of all the Lowland gentlemen
then present, only my father would not suffer it. And then he
upbraided my father that he was under his banner, and paid
him tribute; and my father was in a towering passion, for
Bailie Macwheeble, who manages such things his own way, had
contrived to keep this black-mail a secret from him, and passed
it in his account for cess-money. And they would have fought ;
but Fergus Mac-Ivor said, very gallantly, he would never raise
his hand against a grey head that was so much respected as my
father's. Oh, I wish, I wish they had continued friends ! "

"And did you ever see this Mr. Mac-Ivor, if that be his
name, Miss Bradwardine ?"

" No, that is not his name ; and he would consider master
as a sort of affront, only that you are an Englishman, and know
no better. But the Lowlanders call him, like other gentlemen,

WAVEKLET. 109

by tlie name of his estate, Glennaquoich ; and the Highlanders
call him Vich Ian Vohr, that is, the son of John the Great ;
and we upon the braes here call him by both names indiffer-
ently."

^' I am afraid I shall never bring my English tongue to call
him by either one or other."

" But he is a veiy polite, handsome man," continued Rose ;
" and his sister Flora is one of the most beautiful and accom-
plished young ladies in this country ; she was bred in a convent
in France, and was a great friend of mine before this unhappy
dispute. Dear Captain Waverley, try your influence with my
ftither to make matters up. I am sure this is but the beginning
of oiu* troubles ; for Tully-Veolan has never been a safe or quiet
residence when we have been at feud with the Highlanders.
When I was a girl about ten, there was a skirmish fought
between a party of twenty of them, and my father and his
servants, behind the Mains ; and the bullets broke several panes
in the north window^s, they were so near. Three of the High-
landers were killed, and they brought them in, wrapped in
their plaids, and laid them on the stone floor of the hall ; and
next morning, their wives and daughters came, clapping their
hands, and crying the coronach, and shrieking, and carried
away the dead bodies, with the pipes playing before them. 1
could not sleep for six weeks without starting, and thinking I
heard these terrible cries, and saw the bodies lying on the steps,
all stiff and swathed up in their bloody tartans. But since that
time there came a party from the garrison at Stirling, with a
warrant from the Lord Justice-Clerk, or some such great man,
and took away all our arms ; and now, how are we to protect
ourselves if they come down in any strength T

Waverley could not help starting at a story which bore so
much resemblance to one of his own day-dreams. Here was a
girl scarce seventeen, the gentlest of her sex, both in temper
and appearance, who had witnessed with her own eyes such a
scene as he had used to conjure up in his imagination, as only
occurring in ancient times, and spoke of it coolly, as one very
likely to recur. He felt at once the impulse of curiosity, and
that slight sense of danger which only serves to heighten its
interest. He might have said with Malvolio, " ' I do not now
fool my sell', to let imagination jade me !' I am actually in the
land of military and romantic adventures, and it only remains
to be seen what will be my own share in them."

110 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

The whole circumstances now detailed concerning the state
of the country, seemed equally novel and extraordinary. He
had indeed often heard of Highland thieves, but had no idea
of the systematic mode in which their depredations were con-
ducted ; and that the practice was connived at, and even en-
couraged by, many of the Highland chieftains, who not only
found the creaghs, or forays, useful for the purpose of training
individuals of their clan to the practice of arms, but also of
maintaining a wholesome terror among their Lowland neigli-
bours, and levying, as we have seen, a tribute from them, under
colour of protection-money.

Bailie Macwheeble, who soon afterwards entered, expatiated
still more at length upon the same topic. This honest gentle-
man's conversation was so formed upon his professional practice,
that Davie Gellatley once said his discourse was like " a charge
of horning." He assured our hero, that "from the maist
ancient times of record, the lawless thieves, limmers, and broken
men of the Highlands, had been in fellowship together by reason
of their surnames, for the committing of divers thefts, reifs, and
herships upon the honest men of the Low Country, when they
not only intromitted with their whole goods and gear, corn,
cattle, horse, nolt, sheep, outsight and insight plenishing, at their
wicked pleasure, but moreover made prisoners, ransomed them,
or concussed them into giving borrows (pledges) to enter into
captivity again : all which was directly prohibited in divers
parts of the Statute Book, both by the act one thousand five
hundred and sixty-seven, and various others ; the whilk statutes,
with all that had followed and might follow thereupon, were
shamefully broken and vilipended by the said sorners, limmers,
and broken men, associated into fellowships, for the aforesaid
purposes of theft, stouthreef, fire-raising, murther, raptus mulie-
rum, or forcible abduction of women, and such like as afore-
said."

It seemed like a dream to Waverley that these deeds ol
violence should be familiar to men's minds, and currently
talked of, as falling within the common order of things, and
happening daily in the immediate vicinity, without his having
crossed the seas, and while he was yet in the otherwise well-
ordered island of Great Britain. *

* Note F. Black-niai].

WAVERLEY. Ill

CHAPTER SIXTEENTH.

AN UNEXPECTED ALLY APPEARS.

The Baron returned at the dinner-hour, and had in a great
measure recovered his composure and good humour. He not
only confirmed the stories which Edward had heard from Rose
and Bailie Macwheeble, but added many anecdotes from his own
experience, concerning the state of the Highlands and their
inhabitants. The chiefs he pronounced to be, in general,
gentlemen of great honour and high pedigree, whose word was
accounted as a law by all those of their own sept, or clan. " It
did not, indeed," he said, '^become them, as had occurred in late
instances, to propone their prosapia, a lineage which rested for
the most part on the vain and fond rhymes of their Seannachies
or Bhairds, as aequiponderate with the evidence of ancient
charters and royal grants of antiquity, conferred upon dis-
tinguished houses in the Low Country by divers Scottish
monarchs ; nevertheless, such was their outrecuidance and pre-
sumption as to undervalue those who possessed such evidents,
as if they held their lands in a sheep's skin."

This, by the way, pretty well explained the cause of quarrel
between the Baron and his Highland ally. But he went on to
state so many curious particulars concerning the manners,
customs, and habits of this patriarchal race, that Edward's
curiosity became highly interested, and he inquired whether it
was possible to make with safety an excursion into the neigh-
bouring Highlands, whose dusky barrier of mountains had
already excited his wish to penetrate beyond them. The Baron
assured his guest that nothing would be more easy, providing
this quarrel were first made up, since he could himself give him
letters to many of the distinguished chiefs, who would receive
him with the utmost courtesy and hospitality.

While they were on this topic, the door suddenly opened, and,
ushered by Saunders Saunderson, a Highlander, fully armed
and equipped, entered the apartment. Had it not been that
Saunders acted the part of master of the ceremonies to this
martial apparition, without appearing to deviate from his usual
composure, and that neither Mr. Bradwardine nor Rose exliibited
any emotion, Edward woidd certainly have thought the iutnisiou

112 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

1

hostile. As it was, lie started at the sight of what he had not
yet happened to see, a mountaineer in his full national costume.
The individual Gael was a stout, dark, young man, of low
stature, the ample folds of whose plaid added to the appearance
of strength which his person exhibited. The short kilt, or
petticoat, showed his sinewy and clean-made limbs; the goat-
skin purse, flanked by the usual defences, a dirk and steel -
wrought pistol, hung before him ; his bonnet had a short
feather, which indicated his claim to be treated as a Duinhe-
wassel, or sort of gentleman ; a broadsword dangled by his side,
a target hung upon his shoulder, and a long Spanish fowling-piece
occupied one of his hands. With the other hand he pulled off
his bonnet, and the Baron, who well knew their customs, and
the proper mode of addressing them, immediately said, with an
air of dignity, but without rising, and much, as Edward thought,
in the manner of a prince receiving an embassy, "Welcome,
Evan Dhu Maccombich ! what news from Fergus Mac-Ivor Vich
Ian Vohr?"

" Fergus Mac-Ivor Vich Ian Vohr," said the ambassador, in
good English, "greets you well. Baron of Bradwardine and
Tully-Veolan, and is sorry there has been a thick cloud inter-
posed between you and him, which has kept you from seeing
and considering the friendship and alliances that have been
between your houses and forbears of old ; and he prays you that
the cloud may pass away, and that things may be as they have
been heretofore between the clan Ivor and the house of Brad-
wardine, when there was an egg between them for a flint, and
a knife for a sword. And he expects you will also say, you are
sorry for the cloud, and no man shall hereafter ask whether it
descended from the hiU to the valley, or rose from the valley to
the hill ; for they never struck with the scabbard who did not
receive with the sword ; and woe to him who would lose his
friend for the stormy cloud of a spring morning !"

To this the Baron of Bradwardine answered, with suitable
dignity, that he knew the chief of clan Ivor to be a well-wisher
to the King, and he was sorry there should have been a cloud
between him and any gentleman of such sound principles, " for
when folks are banding together, feeble is he who hath no
brother."

This appearing perfectly satisfactory, that the peace between
these august persons might be duly solemnized, the Baron

WAVERLEY. 1 1 3

ordered a stoup of usquebaugh, and, filling a glass, drank to the
health and prosperity of Mac-Ivor of Gleuuaquoich ; upon which
the Celtic ambassador, to requite his politeness, turned down a
mighty bumper of the same generous liquor, seasoned with his
good wishes to the house of Bradwardine.

Having thus ratified the preliminaries of the general treaty
of pacification, the envoy retired to adjust with Mr. Macwheeble
some subordinate articles with which it was not thought neces-
saiy to trouble the Baron. These probably referred to the dis-
continuance of the subsidy, and apparently the Bailie found
means to satisfy their ally, without suffering his master to
suppose that his dignity was compromised. At least, it is
certain, that after the plenipotentiaries had drank a bottle of
brandy in single drams, which seemed to have no more effect
upon such seasoned vessels, than if it had been poiu-ed upon the
two bears at the top of the avenue, Evan Dhu Maccombich,
having possessed himself of all the information which he could
procm-e respecting the robbery of the preceding night, declared
his intention to set off immediately in pursuit of the cattle,
which he pronounced to be "not far ofi"; — they have broken the
bone," he observed, " but they have had no time to suck the
marrow."

Our hero, who had attended Evan Dhu during his perquisi-
tions, was much struck with the ingenuity which he displayed
in collecting information, and the precise and pointed conclusions
which he drew from it. Evan Dhu, on his part, was obviously
flattered with the attention of Waverley, the interest he seemed
to take in his inquiries and his curiosity about the customs and
scenery of the Highlands. Without much ceremony he invited
Edward to accompany him on a short walk of ten or fifteen
miles into the mountains, and see the place where the cattle
were conveyed to ; adding, "If it be as I suppose, you never
saw such a place in your life, nor ever will, unless you go witli
me, or the like of me."

Our hero, feeling his curiosity considerably excited by the idea
of visiting the den of a Highland Cacus, took, however, the
precaution to inquire if his guide might be trusted. He was
assured, that the invitation would on no accoimt have been
given had there been the least danger, and that all he had to
apprehend was a little fatigue ; and as Evan proposed he should
pass a day at his Chieftain's house in letm-ning, where he would

VOL. 1. I

114 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

be sure of good accommodation and an excellent welcome, there
seemed nothing very formidable in the task he undertook
Rose, indeed, turned pale when she heard of it ; but her father,
who loved the spirited cmiosity of his young friend, did not
attempt to damp it by an alarm of danger which really did not
exist ; and a knapsack, with a few necessaries, being bound on
the shoulders of a sort of deputy gamekeeper, our hero set forth
with a fowling-piece in his hand, accompanied by his new friend
Evan Dhu, and, followed by the gamekeeper aforesaid, and by
two wild Highlanders, the attendants of Evan, one of whom
had upon liis shoulder a hatchet at the end of a pole, called a
Lochaber axe, * and the other a long ducking gun. Evan, upon
Edward's inquiry, gave him to understand that this martial
escort was by no means necessary as a guard, but merely, as he
said, drawing up and adjusting his plaid with an air of dignity,
that he might appear decently at TuUy-Veolan, and as Vich Ian
Vohr's foster-brother ought to do. "Ah!" said he, "if you
Saxon Duinhe-wassel (English gentlemen) saw but the Chief
with his tail on ! "

" With his tail on !" echoed Edward in some surprise.

" Yes — that is, with all his usual followers, when he visits
those of the same rank. There is," he continued, stopping and
drawing himself proudly up, while he counted upon his fingers
the several officers of his chiefs retinue — " there is his hanclh-
man, or right-hand man ; then his hdrd, or poet ; then his hladier,
or orator, to make harangues to the great folks whom he visits ;
then his gilly-more, or armour-bearer, to carry his sword and
target, and his gun ; then his gilly-casfliuch, who carries him
on his back through the sikes and brooks ; then his gilly-com-
strian, to lead his horse by the bridle in steep and difficult
paths ; then his gilly-trushhar7iish, to carry his knapsack ; and
the piper and the piper's man, and it may be a dozen young lads
besides, that have no business, but are just boys of the belt, to
follow the laird, and do his honour's bidding."

"And does your Chief regularly maintain all these men?"
demanded Waverley.

* The Town-guard of Edinburgh were, till a late period, armed with
this weapon when on their police duty. There was a hook at the back of
the axe, which the ancient Highlanders used to assist them to climb over
v/alls, fixing the hook upon it, and raising themselves by the handle. The
axe, which was also much used by the natives of Ireland, is supposed to
have been inti'oduced into both countries from Scandinavia.

i

WAVERLEY. 115

'^ All these !" replied Evan, " ay, and many a fair head beside,
that would not ken where to lay itself, but for the mickle barn
at Glennaquoich."

With similar tales of the grandeui* of the Chief in peace and
war, Evan Dhu beguiled the way till they approached more
closely those huge mountains which Edward had hitherto only
seen at a distance. It was towards evening as they entered one
of the tremendous passes which afford communication between
the High and Low Country; the path, which was extremely
steep and rugged, winded up a chasm between two tremendous
rocks, following the passage which a foaming stream, that
brawled far below, appeared to have worn for itself in the course
of ages. A few slanting beams of the sun, which was now
setting, reached the water in its darksome bed, and showed it
partially, chafed by a hundred rocks, and broken by a hundred
falls. The descent from the path to the stream was a mere
precipice, with here and there a projecting fragment of granite, \
or a scathed tree, which had warped its twisted roots into the ,
fissures of the rock. On the right hand, the mountain rose
above the path with almost equal inaccessibility ; but the hill
on the opposite side displayed a shroud of copsewood, with which
some pines were intermingled.

" This," said Evan, " is the pass of Bally-Brough, which was
kept in former times by ten of the clan Donnochie against a
himdred of the Low Country carles. The graves of the slain
are still to be seen in that little corri, or bottom, on the opposite
side of the biun — if your eyes are good, you may see the green
specks among the heather. ^ — See, there is an earn, which you
Southrons call an eagle — you have no such birds as that in
England — he is going to fetch his supper from the Laird of
Bradwardine's braes, but I'll send a slug after him."

He fired his piece accordingly, but missed the superb monarch
of the feathered tribes, who, without noticing the attempt to
annoy him, continued his majestic flight to the southward. A
thousand birds of prey, hawks, kites, carrion-crows, and ravens,
disturbed from the lodgings which they had just taken up for
the evening, rose at the report of the gun, and mingled their
hoarse and discordant notes with the echoes which replied to it,
and with the roar of the mountain cataracts. Evan, a little
disconcerted at having missed his mark, when he meant to have
displayed peculiar dexterity, covered his confusion by wliistling

116 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

part of a pibroch as he reloaded his piece, and proceeded Id
silence up the pass.

It issued in a narrow glen, between two mountains, both
very lofty, and covered with heath. The brook continued to be
their companion, and they advanced up its mazes, crossing them
now and them, on which occasions Evan Dhu uniformly offered
the assistance of his attendants to carry over Edward ; but our
hero, who had been always a tolerable pedestrian, declined the
accommodation, and obviously rose in his guide's opinion, by
showing that he did not fear wetting his feet. Indeed he was
anxious, so far as he could without affectation, to remove the
opinion which Evan seemed to entertain of the effeminacy of
the Lowlanders, and particularly of the English.

Through the gorge of this glen they found access to a black
bog, of tremendous extent, full of large pit-holes, which they
traversed with great difficulty and some danger, by tracks
which no one but a Highlander could have followed. The path
itself, or rather the portion of more solid ground on which the
travellers half walked, half waded, was rough, broken, and in
many places quaggy and unsound. Sometimes the ground was
so completely unsafe, that it was necessary to spring from one
hillock to another, the space between being incapable of bearing
the himian weight. This was an easy matter to the High-
landers, who wore thin-soled brogues fit for the purpose, and
moved with a peculiar springing step; but Edward began to
find the exercise, to which he was unaccustomed, more fatiguing
than he expected. The lingering twilight served to show them
through this Serbonian bog, but deserted them almost totally
at the bottom of a steep and veiy stony hill, which it was the
traveller's next toilsome task to ascend. The night, however,
was pleasant, and not dark ; and Waverley, calling up mental
energy to support personal fatigue, held on his march gallantly,
though envying in his heart his Highland attendants, who con-
tinued, without a symptom of unabated vigour, the rapid and
swinging pace, or rather trot, which, according to his computa-
tion, had already brought them fifteen miles upon their journey.

After crossing this mountain, and descending on the other
side towards a thick wood, Evan Dhu held some conference
with his Highland attendants, in consequence of which Edward's
baggage was shifted from the shoulders of the gamekeeper to
those of one of the gillies, and the former was sent off' with the

1

WAVERLEY. 117

other momitaiueer in a direction different from that of the three
remaining travellers. On asking the meaning of this separation,
Waverley was told that the Lowlander must go to a hamlet
about three miles off for the night ; for unless it was some very
particular friend, Donald Bean Lean,t the worthy person whom
they supposed to be possessed of the cattle, did not much
approve of strangers approaching his retreat. This seemed
reasonable, and silenced a qualm of suspicion which came across
Edward's mind, when he saw himself, at such a place, and such
an hour, deprived of his only Lowland companion. And Evan
immediately afterwards added, "that indeed he himself had
better get forward and announce their approach to Donald Bean
Lean, as the arrival of a sidier roy "* (red soldier) might other-
wise be a disagreeable surprise." And without waiting for an
answer, in jockey phrase, he trotted out, and putting himself to
a very round pace, was out of sight in an instant.

Waverley was now left to his own meditations, for his
attendant with the battle-axe spoke very little English. They
were traversing a thick, and, as it seemed, an endless wood of
pines, and consequently the path was altogether indiscernible
in the murky darkness which surrounded them. The High-
lander, however, seemed to trace it by instinct, without the
hesitation of a moment, and Edward followed his footsteps as
close as he could.

After journeying a considerable time in silence, he could not
help asking, " Was it far to the end of their journey V

" Ta cove was tree, four mile ; but as Duinhe-wassel was a
wee taiglit, Donald could, tat is, might — would — should send
ta curragh."

This conveyed no information. The curragh which was
promised might be a man, a horse, a cart, or chaise ; and no
more could be got from the man with the battle-axe, but a
repetition of " Aich ay ! ta curragh."

But in a short time Edward began to conceive his meaning,
when, issuing from the wood, he found himself on the banks of
a large river or lake, where his conductor gave him to under-

t [Pronounced Bane liane.]

* The sidier roy were used to distinguisli the regular regiments from
the independent companies raised to protect the peace of the Highlands.
Tlicso last were called sidier dhu, i.e., black soldier ; and the 42d Regiment,
which was formed out of these independent companies, is still called ilie
Black Watch from the dark colour of the tartans.

118 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

stand they must sit down for a little while. The moon, which
now began to rise, showed obscurely the expanse of water which
spread before them, and the shapeless and indistinct forms of
mountains with which it seemed to be surrounded. The cool
and yet mild air of the summer night refreshed Waverley after
his rapid and toilsome walk ; and the perfume which it wafted
from the birch trees, ^ bathed in the evening dew, was exqui-
sitely fragrant.

He had now time to give himself up to the full romance of
his situation. Here he sate on the banks of an unknown lake^
under the guidance of a wild native, whose language was
unknown to him, on a visit to the den of some renowned outlaw,
a second Robin Hood perhaps, or Adam o' Gordon,tand thatat
deep midnight, through scenes of diflBculty and toil, separated
frdm his attendant, left by his guide. — What a variety of inci-
dents for the exercise of a romantic imagination, and all
enhanced by the solemn feeling of uncertainty, at least, if not of
danger? The only circumstance which assorted ill with the
rest, was the cause of his journey — the Baron's milk-cows !
This degrading incident he kept in the back-ground.

While wi'apt in these dreams of imagination, his companion
gently touched him, and pointing in a direction nearly straight
across the lake, said " Yon's ta cove." A small point of light
was seen to twinkle in the direction in which he pointed, and
gradually increasing in size and lustre, seemed to flicker like a
meteor upon the verge of the horizon. While Edward watched
this phenomenon, the distant dash of oars was heard. The
measured sound approached near and more near, and presently
a loud whistle was heard in the same direction. His friend
with the battle-axe immediately whistled clear and shrill, in
reply to the signal, and a boat, manned with four or five High-
landers, pushed for a little inlet, near which Edward was sitting.
He advanced to meet them with his attendant, was immediately
assisted into the boat by the officious attention of two stout
mountaineers, and had no sooner seated himself, than they
resumed their oars, and began to row across the lake with great

rapi (11 ty. ^ ^ freebooter ot Aberdeenshire, see Percy JteU^ite*.

* It is not the weeping birch, the most common species in the High-
lands, but the woolly-leaved Lowland birch, that is distmguished by thi?
fragrance.

WAVICRLEY. il9

CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH.

THE HOLD OF A HIGHLAND ROBBER.

The party preserved silence, interrupted only by the monotonous
and murmured chant of a Gaelic song, sung in a kind of low
recitative by the steersman, and by the dash of the oars, which
the notes seemed to regidate, as they dipped to them in cadence.
The light, which they now approached more nearly, assumed a
broader, redder, and more irregular splendour. It appeared
plainly to be a large fire, but whether kindled upon an island
or the main land, Edward could not determine. As he saw it,
the red glaring orb seemed to rest on the very surface of the
lake itself, and resembled the fiery vehicle in which the Evil
Genius of an Oriental tale traverses land and sea. They
approached nearer, and the light of the fire sufficed to show
that it was kindled at the bottom of a huge dark crag or rock,
rising abruptly from the very edge of the water; its front,
changed by the reflection to dusky red, formed a strange and
even awful contrast to the banks around, which were from time
to time faintly and partially illuminated by pallid moonlight.

The boat now neared the shore, and Edward could discover
that this large fire, amply supplied with branches of pine-wood
by two figures who, in the red reflection of its light, appeared
like demons, was kindled in the jaws of a lofty cavern, into
which an inlet from the lake seemed to advance ; and he con-
jectured, which was indeed true, that the fire had been lighted
as a beacon to the boatmen on their return. They rowed right
for the mouth of the cave, and then, shipping their oars,
permitted the boat to enter in obedience to the impulse which
it had received. The skiff passed the little point or platform
of rock on which the fire was blazing, and running about two
boats' length farther, stopped where the cavern (for it was
already arched overhead) ascended from the water by five or
six broad ledges of rocks, so easy and regular that they might
be termed natural steps. At this moment a quantity of water
was suddenly flung upon the fire, which sank with a hissing
noise, and with it disappeared the light it had hitherto afforded.
Four or five active arms lifted Waverley out of the boat, placed
him on his feet, and almost carried him into the recesses of the

120 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

cave. He made a few paces in darkness, guided in this manner ;
and advancing towards a hum of voices, which seemed to sound
from the centre of the rock, at an acute turn Donald Bean Lean
and his whole establishment were before his eyes.

I'he interior of the cave, which here rose very high, was
illuminated by torches made of pine-tree, which emitted a
bright and bickering light, attended by a strong though not un-
pleasant odoiu". Their light was assisted by the red glare of a
large charcoal fire, round which were seated five or six armed
Highlanders, while others were indistinctly seen couched on
their plaids, in the more remote recesses of the cavern. In one
large aperture, which the robber facetiously called his spence (or
pantry), there hung by the heels the carcasses of a sheep, or
ewe, and two cows lately slaughtered. The principal inhabitant
of this singular mansion, attended by Evan Dim, as master of
the ceremonies, came forward to meet his guest, totally different
in appearance and manner from what his imagination had
anticipated. The profession which he followed — the wilderness
in which he dw^elt — the wild warrior-forms that surrounded
him, were all calculated to inspire terror. From such accom-
paniments, Waverley prepared himself to meet a stem, gigantic,
ferocious figure, such as Salvator would have chosen to be the
central object of a group of banditti. *

Donald Bean Lean was the very reverse of all these. He
was thin in person and low in stature, with light sandy-coloured
hair, and small pale features, from which he derived his agnomen
of Bean, or white ; and although his form was light, well-pro-
portioned, and active, he appeared, on the whole, rather a
diminutive and insignificant figm-e. He had served in some
inferior capacity in the French army, and in order to receive
his English visitor in great form, and probably meaning, in his
way, to pay him a compliment, he had laid aside the Highland
dress for the time, to put on an old blue and red imiform, and
a feathered hat, in which he was far from showing to advantage,
and indeed looked so incongruous, compared with all around
liim, that Waverley would have been tempted to laugh, had
laughter been either civil or safe. The robber received Captain
Waverley with a profusion of French politeness and Scottish
hospitality, seemed perfectly to know his name and connexions,
and to be particularly acquainted with his uncle's political
* Note Gr. Kob Koy,

WAVERLEY. 121

principles. On these be bestowed great applause, to which
Waverley judged it prudent to make a very general reply.

Being placed at a convenient distance from the charcoal fire,
the heat of which the season rendered oppressive, a strapping
Highland damsel placed before Waverley, Evan, and Donald
Bean, three cogues, or wooden vessels, composed of staves and
hoops, containing eanaruich,'^ a sort of strong soup, made out
of a particular part of the inside of the beeves. After this
refreshment, which, though coarse, fatigue and Inniger rendered
palatable, steaks, roasted on the coals, were supplied in liberal
abundance and disappeared before Evan Dhu and their host
with a promptitude that seemed like magic, and astonished
Waverley, who was much puzzled to reconcile their voracity
with what he had heard of the abstemiousness of the High-
landers, He was ignorant that this abstinence was with the
lower ranks wholly compulsory, and that, like some animals of
prey, those who practise it were usually gifted with the power
of indemnifying themselves to good purpose, when chance threw
plenty in their way. The whisky came forth in a,bundance
to crown the cheer. The Highlanders drank it copiously and
undiluted ; but Edward, having mixed a little with water, did
not find it so palatable as to invite him to repeat the draught.
Their host bewailed himself exceedingly that he could offer him
no wine : " Had he but knoAvn four-and-twenty hom's before,
he would have had some, had it been within the circle of forty
miles round him. But no gentleman could do more to show
his sense of the honour of a visit from another, than to offer
liim the best cheer his house afforded. Where there are no
bushes there can be no nuts, and the way of those you live
with is that you must follow."

He went on regretting to Evan Dhu tlie death of an aged
man, Donnacha an Aanrigh, or Duncan with the Cap, " a gifted
seer," who foretold, through the second sight, visitors of every
description who haunted their dwelling, whether as friends oi
foes.

" Is not his son Malcolm taishatr ?" (a second-sighted person),
asked Evan.

" Nothing equal to his father," replied Donald Bean. " He

told us the other day we were to see a great gentleman riding

on a horse, and there came nobody that whole day but Shemua

* I'his was the regale presented by Kob Roy to the Lainl of Tullibody.

122 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Beg, the blind harper, with his dog. Another time he adver-
tised us of a wedding, and behold it proved a funeral ; and on
the creagh, when he foretold to us we should bring home a
hundred head of homed cattle, we gripped nothing but a fat
bailie of Perth."

From this discourse he passed to the political and military
state of the country ; and Waverley was astonished, and even
alarmed, to find a person of this description so accurately
acquainted with the strength of the various garrisons and regi-
ments quartered north of the Tay. He even mentioned the
exact number of recruits who had joined Waverley's troop from
his uncle's estate, and observed they were pretty men, meaning,
not handsome, but stout warlike fellows. He put Waverley in
mind of one or two minute circumstances which had happened
at a general review of the regiment, which satisfied him that
the robber had been an eye-witness of it ; and Evan Dhu having
by this time retired from the conversation, and wrapped him-
self up in his plaid to take some repose, Donald asked Edward,
in a very significant manner, whether he had nothing particular
to say to him.

Waverley, surprised and somewhat startled at this question
from such a character, answered he had no motive in visiting
him but curiosity to see his extraordinary place of residence.
Donald Bean Lean looked him steadily in the face for an
instant, and then said, with a significant nod, " You might as
well have confided in me j I am as much worthy of trust as
either the Baron of Bradwardine or Vich Ian Volir : — but you
are equally welcome to my house."

Waverley felt an involuntary shudder creep over him at the
mysterious language held by this outlawed and lawless bandit,
which, in despite of his attempts to master it, deprived him of
the power to ask the meaning of his insinuations. A heath
pallet, with the flowers stuck uppermost, had been prepared for
him in a recess of the cave, and here, covered with such spare
plaids as could be mustered, he lay for some time watching the
motions of the other inhabitants of the cavern. Small parties
of two or three entered or left the place without any other
ceremony than a few words in Gaelic to the principal outlaw,
and, when he fell asleep, to a tall Highlander who acted a.s his
lieutenant, and seemed to keep watch during his repose. Those
who entered, seemed to have returned from some excursion, of

WAVERLEY. 123

which they reported the success, and went without farther
ceremony to the larder, where, cutting with their dirks their
rations from the carcasses which were there suspended, they
proceeded to broil and eat them at their own pleasure and
leisure. The liquor was under strict regulation, being served
out either by Donald himself, his Heutenant, or the strapping
Highland girl aforesaid, who was the only female that appeared.
The allowance of whisky, however, would have appeared prodigal
to any but Highlanders, who, living entirely in the open air,
and in a very moist climate, can consume great quantities of
ardent spirits without the usual baneful effects either upon the
brain or constitution.

At length the fluctuating groups began to swim before the
eyes of our hero as they gradually closed ; nor did he re-open
them till the morning sim was high on the lake without, though
there was but a faint and glimmering twilight in the recesses of
Uaimh an Ri, or the King's Cavern, as the abode of Donald
Bean Lean was proudly denominated.

CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH.

WAVERLEY PROCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY.

When Edward had collected his scattered recollection, he was
siu-prised to observe the cavern totally deserted. Having
arisen and put his dress in some order, he looked more accu-
rately round him ; but all was still solitary. If it had not been
for the decayed brands of the fire, now sunk into grey ashes,
and the remnants of the festival, consisting of bones half burnt
and half gnawed, and an empty keg or two, there remained no
traces of Donald and his band. When Waverley sallied forth
to the entrance of the cave, he perceived that the point of rock,
on which remained the marks of last night's beacon, was acces-
sible by a small path, either natural, or roughly hewn in the
rock, along the little inlet of water which ran a few yards up
into the cavern, where, as in a wet-dock, the skiff which brought
him there the night before was still lying moored. When he
reached the small projecting platform on which the beacon had
been established, he would have believed his further progress

124 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

by land impossible, only that it was scarce probable but what
the inhabitants of the cavern had some mode of issuing from it
otherwise than by the lake. Accordingly, he soon observed
three or four shelving steps, or ledges of rock, at the very
extremity of the little platform ; and, making use of them as a
staircase, he clambered by their means around the projecting
shoulder of the crag on which the cavern opened, and, descend-
ing with some diflBculty on the other side, he gained the wild
and precipitous shores of a Highland loch, about four miles in
length, and a mile and a half across, surrounded by heathy and
savage mountains, on the crests of which the morning mist was
still sleeping.

Looking back to the place from which he came, he could
not help admiring the address which had adopted a retreat of
such seclusion and secrecy. The rock, round the shoulder of
which he had turned by a few imperceptible notches, that
barely afforded place for the foot, seemed, in looking back upon
it, a huge precipice, which barred all further passage by the
shores of the lake in that direction. There could be no possi-
bility, the breadth of the lake considered, of descrying the
entrance of the narrow and low-browed cave from the other side ;
so that, unless the retreat had been sought for with boats, or
disclosed by treachery, it might be a safe and secret residence
to its garrison as long as they were supplied with provisions.
Having satisfied his curiosity in these particulars, Waverley
looked around for Evan Dhu and his attendants, who, he rightly
judged, would be at no great distance, whatever might have
become of Donald Bean Lean and his party, whose mode of life
was, of course, liable to sudden migrations of abode. Accord-
ingly, at the distance of about half-a-mile, he beheld a High-
lander (Evan apparently) angling in the lake, with another
attending him, whom, from the weapon which he shouldered,
he recognised for his friend with the battle-axe.

Much nearer to the mouth of the cave, he heard the notes of
a lively Gaelic song, guided by which, in a sunny recess, shaded
by a glittering birch- tree, and carpeted with a bank of firm
white sand, he found the damsel of the cavern, whose lay had
already reached him, busy, to the best of her power, in arranging
to advantage a morning repast of milk, eggs, barley-bread, fresh
butter, and honey-comb. The poor girl had already made a
circuit of four miles that morning in search of the eggs, of the

WAVERLEY 126

meal which baked her cakes, and of the other materials of the
breakfast, being all delicacies which she had to beg or borrow
from distant cottagers. The followers of Donald Bean Lean
used little food except the flesh of the animals which they drove
away from the Lowlands ; bread itself was a delicacy seldom
thought of, because hard to be obtained, and all the domestic
accommodations of milk, poultry, butter, etc., were out of the
question in this Scythian camp. Yet it must not be omitted,
that, although Alice had occupied a part of the morning in
providing those accommodations for her guest which the cavern
did not aff'ord, she had secured time also to arrange her own
person in her best trim. Her finery was very simple. A short
russet-coloiu*ed jacket, and a petticoat, of scanty longitude, was
her whole dress ; but these were clean, and neatly arranged.
A piece of scarlet embroidered cloth, called the snood, confined
her hair, which fell over it in a profusion of rich dark curls.
The scarlet plaid, which formed part of her dress, was laid aside,
that it might not impede her activity in attending the stranger.
I should forget Alice's proudest ornament, were I to omit men-
tioning a pair of gold ear-rings, and a golden rosary, which her
father (for she was the daughter of Donald Bean Lean) had
brought from France, the plimder, probably, of some battle or
storm.

Her form, though rather large for her years, was veiy well
proportioned, and her demeanour had a natural and rustic grace,
with nothing of the sheepishness of an ordinary peasant. The
smiles, displaying a row of teeth of exquisite whiteness, and the
laughing eyes, with which, in dumb show, she gave Waverley
that morning greeting which she wanted English words to ex-
press, might have been interpreted by a coxcomb, or perhaps by
a young soldier, who, without being such, was conscious of a
handsome person, as meant to convey more than the courtesy of
an hostess. Nor do I take it upon me to say, that the little wild
mountaineer would have welcomed any staid old gentleman ad-
vanced in life, the Baron of Bradwardine, for example, with the
cheerful pains which she bestowed upon Edward's accommodation.
She seemed eager to place him by the meal which she had so
sedulously arranged, and to which she now added a few bunches
of cranberries, gathered in an adjacent morass. Having had the
satisfaction of seeing him seated at his breakfast, she placed
herself demurely upon a stone at a few yards' diatance and

126 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

appeared to watch with great complacency for some opportunity
of serving him.

Evan and his attendant now returned slowly along the beach,
the latter bearing a large salmon-trout, the produce of the
morning's sport, together with the angling-rod, while Evan
strolled forward, with an easy, self-satisfied, and important gait,
towards the spot where Waverley was so agreeably employed at
the breakfast-table. After morning greetings had passed on
both sides, and Evan, looking at Waverley, had said something
in Gaelic to Alice, which made her laugh, yet colour up to her
eyes, through a complexion well embrowned by sun and wind,
Evan intimated his commands that the fish shoidd be prepared
for breakfast. A spark from the lock of his pistol produced a
light, and a few withered fir branches were quickly in flame,
and as speedily reduced to hot embers, on which the trout was
broiled in large slices. To crown the repast, Evan produced
from the pocket of his short jerkin, a large scallop shell, and
from under the folds of his plaid, a ram's , horn full of whisky.
Of this he took a copious dram, observing he had already taken
his morning with Donald Bean Lean, before his departure ; he
offered the same cordial to Alice and to Edward, which they
both declined. With the bounteous air of a lord, Evan then
proffered the scallop to Dugald Mahony, his attendant, who,
without waiting to be asked a second time, drank it off with
great gusto. Evan then prepared to move towards the boat,
inviting Waverley to attend him. Meanwhile, Alice had made
up in a small basket what she thought worth removing, and
flinging her plaid around her, she advanced up to Edward, and,
with the utmost simplicity, taking hold of his hand, offered her
cheek to his salute, dropping, at the same time, her little
courtesy. Evan, who was esteemed a wag among the mountain
fair, advanced, as if to secure a similar favour; but Alice,
snatching up her basket, escaped up the rocky bank as fleetly as
a roe, and, turning round and laughing, called something out to
him in Gaelic, which he answered in the same tone and language ;
then, waving her hand to Edward, she resumed her road, and
was soon lost among the thickets, though they continued for
some time to hear her lively carol, as she proceeded gaily on her
solitary journey.

They now again entered the gorge of the cavern, and stepping
Into the boat, the Highlander pushed off, and, taking advantage

WAVERLEY. 127

of the morning breeze, hoisted a clumsy sort of sail, while Evan
assumed tlje helm, directing their course, as it appeared to
Waverley, rather higher up the lake than towards the place of
his embarkation on the preceding night. As they glided along
the silver mirror, Evan opened the conversation with a panegyric
upon Alice, who, he said, was both canny and fendy ; and was,
to the boot of all that, the best dancer of a strathspey in the
whole strath. Edward assented to her praises so far as he
understood them, yet could not help regretting that she was
condemned to such a perilous and dismal life.

" Oich ! for that," said Evan, " there is nothing in Perthshire
that she need want, if she ask her father to fetch it, unless it be
too hot or too heavy."

" But to be the daughter of a cattle-stealer — a common thief!"

" Common thief ! — no such thing ; Donald Bean Lean never
lifted less than a drove in his life."

"Do you call him an uncommon thief, then?"

" No — he that steals a cow from a poor widow or a stirk from
a cotter is a thief; he that lifts a drove from a Sassenach laird
is a gentleman-drover. And, besides, to take a tree from the
forest, a salmon from the river, a deer from the hill, or a cow
from a Lowland strath, is what no Highlander need ever think
shame upon."

" But what can this end in were he taken in such an appro-
priation'?"

" To be sure he w^ould die for the law, as many a pretty man
has done before him."

"Die for the law!"

" Ay ; that is, with the law, or by the law ; be strapped up
on the kind gallows of Crieff,''' where his father died, and his
goodsire died, and where I hope he'll live to die himsell, if he's
not shot or slashed in a creagh."

" You hope such a death for your friend, Evan !"

" And that do I e'en ; would you have me wish him to die on
a bundle of wet straw in yon den of his, like a mangy tyke 1"

" But what becomes of Alice, then 1"

" Troth, if such an accident were to happen, as her father
would not need her help ony langer, I ken nought to hinder me
to marry her mysell."

" Gallantly resolved !" said Edward; — " but in the meanwhile,
* Note H. Kind Gallows of Crieff.

128 WAVEIiLEY NOVELS.

Evan, what has your father-m-law (that shall be, if he have the
good fortune to be hanged) done with the Baron's cattle V

" Oich," answered Evan, " they were all trudging before your
lad and Allan Kennedy before the sun blinked ower Ben-Lawers
this morning; and they'll be in the pass of Bally-Brough by
this time, in their way back to the parks of TuUy-Veolan, all
but two, that were unhappily slaughtered before I got last night
bo Uaimh an Ri."

"And where are we going, Evan, if I may be so bold as to
ask?" said Waverley.

" Where would you be ganging, but to the laird's ain house
of Glennaquoich 1 Ye would not think to be in his coimtry
without ganging to see him ? It Avould be as much as a man's
life's worth."

" And are we far from Glennaquoich ]"

" But five bits of miles ; and Vich Ian Vohr will meet us."

In about half an hour they reached the upper end of the lake,
where, after landing Waverley, the two Highlanders drew the
boat into a little creek among thick flags and reeds, where it lay
perfectly concealed. The oars they put in another place of con-
cealment, both for the use of Donald Bean Lean probably, when
his occasions should next bring him to that place.

The travellers followed for some time a delightful opening
into the hills, down which a little brook found its way to the
lake. When they had pursued their walk a short distance,
Waverley renewed his questions about their host of the cavern.

" Does he always reside in that cave V

" Out, no ! it's past the skill of man to tell where he's to be
found at a' times ; there's not a dern, nook, or cove, or corri, in
the whole country, that he's not acquainted with."

" And do others beside your master shelter him ?"

"My master? — My master is in heaven," answered Evan
haughtily ; and then immediately assuming his usual civility of
manner — " But you mean my Chief ; — no, he does not shelter
Donald Bean Lean, nor any that are like him ; he only allows
him (with a smile) wood and water."

" No great boon, I should think, Evan, when both seem to
be very plenty."

" Ah ! but ye dinna see through it. When I say wood and
water, I mean the loch and the land ; and I fancy Donald would
be put till't if the laird were to look for him wi' threescore meu

WAVEELEY. 129

in the wood of Kailychat yonder ; and if our boats, with a score
or twa mair, were to come down the loch to Uaimh an Ri,
headed by mysell, or ony other pretty man."

" But suppose a strong party came against him from the Low
Country, would not your Chief defend him 1"

" Na, he would not ware the spark of a flint for him — if they
came with the law."

"And what must Donald do, then"?"

" He behoved to rid this country of himsell, and fall back, it
may be, over the mount upon Letter Scriven."

" And if he were pursued to that place ?"

" I'se warrant he would go to his cousin's at Rannoch."

" Well, but if they followed him to Rannoch ?"

"That," quoth Evan, "is beyond all belief; and, indeed, to
tell you the truth, there durst not a Lowlander in all Scotland
follow the fray a gun-shot beyond Bally-Brough, unless he had
the help of the Sidier Dhu."

" Whom do you call so ?"

" The Sidier Dhu ? the black soldier ; that is what they call
the independent companies that were raised to keep peace
and law in the Highlands. Vich Ian Vohr commanded one of
them for five years, and I was sergeant myself, I shall warrant
ye. They call them Sidier Dhu, because they wear the tartans
— as they call yoiu* men, King George's men, Sidier Roy, or red
soldiers."

" Well, but when you were in King George's pay, Evan, you
were surely King George's soldiers'?"

" Troth, and you must ask Vich Ian Vohr about that ; for
we are for his king, and care not much which of them it is.
At anyrate, nobody can say we are King George's men now,
when we have not seen his pay this twelvemonth."

This last argument admitted of no reply, nor did Edward
attempt any ; he rather chose to bring back the discourse to
Donald Bean Lean. " Does Donald confine himself to cattle,
or does he lift, as you call it, anything else that comes in his
wayr'

" Troth, he's nae nice body, and he'll just tak' onything, but
most readily cattle, horse, or live Christians ; for sheep are slow
of travel, and inside plenishing is cumbrous to cai'ry, and not
easy to put away for siller in this country."

" But does he carry off men and women ?"

VOL. I. K

130 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" Out, ay. Did not ye hear him speak o' the Perth bailie
It cost that body five hundred merks ere he got to the south o
Bally- Brough. And ance Donald played a pretty sport.* There
was to be a blythe bridal between the Lady Cramfeezer, in the
liowe o' the Meams (she was the auld laird's widow, and no sae
young as she had been hersell), and young Gilliewhackit, who
had spent his heirship and moveables, like a gentleman, at cock-
matches, bull-baitings, horse-races, and the like. Now, Donald
Bean Lean being aware that the bridegroom was in request, and
wanting to cleik the cunzie (that is, to hook the siller), he
cannily carried off Gilliewhackit ae night when he was riding
doveriiag hame (wi' the malt rather abune the meal), and with
the help of his gillies he gat him into the hills with the speed
of light, and the first place he wakened in was the cove of
Uaimh an Ri. So there was old to do about ransoming the
bridegroom ; for Donald would not lower a farthing of a thou-
sand punds "

"The devil!"

" Punds Scottish, ye shall understand. And the lady had
not the siller if she had pawned her gown ; and they applied to
the governor o' Stirling Castle, and to the major o' the Black
Watch ; and the governor said, it was ower far to the north-
ward, and out of his district ; and the major said, his men were
gane hame to the shearing, and he would not call them out
before the victual was got in for all the Cramfeezers in Christ-
endom, let alane the JMearns, for that it would prejudice the
country. And in the meanwhile ye'U no hinder Gilliewhackit
to take the small-pox. There was not the doctor in Perth or
Stirling would look near the poor lad; and I cannot blame
them, for Donald had been misguggled by ane of these doctors
about Paris, and he swore he would fling the first into the loch
that he catched beyond the Pass. However, some cailliachs
(that is, old women) that were about Donald's hand, nursed
Gilliewhackit sae weel, that between the free open air in the
cove and the fresh whey, deil an he did not recover may be as
weel as if he had been closed in a glazed chamber and a bed
with curtains, and fed with red wine and white meat. And
Donald was sae vexed about it, that when he was stout and
weel, he even sent him free home, and said he would be pleased
with onything they would like to gie him for the plague and

■^ Note I. Cateraias.

I

WAVERLEY. 131

trouble which he had about Gillie whackit to an unkeim'd
degi'ce. Aud I cannot tell ye precisely how they sorted ; but
they agreed sae right that Donald was invited to dance at the
wedding in his Highland trews, and they said that there was
never sae mickle siller clinked in his purse either before or
since. And to the boot of all that, Gilliewhackit said, that, be
the evidence what it liked, if he had the luck to be on Donald's
inquest, he would bring him in guilty of nothing whatever,
unless it were wilful arson, or murder under trust."

With such bald and disjointed chat Evan went on, illustrating
the existing state of the Highlands, more perhaps to the amuse-
ment of Waverley than that of our readers. At length, after
having marched over bank and brae, moss and heather, Edward,
though not unacquainted with the Scottish liberality in com-
puting distance, began to think that Evan's five miles were
nearly doubled. His observation on the large measure which
the Scottish allowed of their land, in comparison to the compu-
tation of their money, was readily answered by Evan, with the
old jest, " The deil take them wha have the least pint stoup."*

And now the report of a gim was heard, and a sportsman
was seen, with his dogs and attendant, at the upper end of the
glen. " Shough," said Dugald Mahony, " tat's ta Chief"

" It is not," said Evan imperiously. " Do you think he
would come to meet a Sassenach Duinhe-wassel in such a way
as that?"

But as they approached a little nearer, he said, with an
appearance of mortification, " And it is even he, sure enough ;
and he has not his tail on after all ; — there is no living creature
with him but Callimi Beg."

In fact, Fergus Mac-Ivor, of whom a Frenchman might have
said, as truly as of any man in the Highlands, " QuHl connoit
Hen ses gens,'' had no idea of raising himself in the eyes of an
English young man of fortune, by appearing with a retinue of
idle Highlanders disproportioned to the occasion. He was well
aware that such an unnecessary attendance would seem to
Edward rather ludicrous than respectable ; and while few men

* The Scotch are liberal in computing their land and liquor ; the Scottish
pint corresponds to two English quarts. As for their coin, every one knows
the couplet —

" How can the rogues pretend to sense ?
Their pouud is only twenty peuce."

132 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

were more attached to ideas of chieftainship and feudal power,
he was, for that very reason, cautious of exhibiting external
marks of dignity, unless at the time and in the manner when
they were most likely to produce an imposing effect. Therefore,
although, had he been to receive a brother chieftain, he would
probably have been attended by all that retinue which Evan
described with so much imction, he judged it more respectable
to advance to meet Waverley with a single attendant, a very
handsome Highland boy, who carried his master's shooting-pouch
and his broadsword, without which he seldom went abroad.

When Fergus and Waverley met, the latter was struck with
the peculiar grace and dignity of the Chieftain's figure. Above
the middle size, and finely proportioned, the Highland dress,
which he wore in its simplest mode, set off" his person to great
advantage. He wore the trews, or close trowsers, made of
tartan, chequed scarlet and white ; in other particulars, his dress
strictly resembled Evan's, excepting that he had no weapon save
a dirk, very richly mounted with silver. His page, as we have
said, carried his claymore ; and the fowling-piece, which he held
in his hand, seemed only designed for sport. He had shot in
the course of his walk some young wild-ducks, as, though close-
time was then imknown, the broods of grouse were yet too young
for the sportsman. His countenance was decidedly Scottish,
with all the peculiarities of the northern physiognomy, but yet
had so little of its harshness and exaggeration, that it would
have been pronounced in any country extremely handsome.
The martial air of the bonnet, with a single eagle's feather as
a distinction, added much to the manly appearance of his head,
which was besides ornamented with a far more natural and
graceful cluster of close black curls than ever were exposed to
sale in Bond Street.

An air of openness and affability increased the favourable
impression derived from this handsome and dignified exterior.
Yet a skilful physiognomist would have been less satisfied with
the countenance on the second than on the first view. The
eyebrow and upper lip bespoke something of the habit of per-
emptory command and decisive superiority. Even his courtesy,
though open, frank, and unconstrained, seemed to indicate a
sense of personal importance ; and, upon any check or accidental
excitation, a sudden, though transient, lour of the eye, showed
a hasty, haughty, and vindictive temper, not less to be dreaded

WAVERLEY. 133

because it seemed much under its o-wner's command. In short,
the countenance of the Chieftain resembled a smiling summer's
day, in which, notwithstanding, we are made sensible by certain,
though slight signs, that it may thunder and lighten before the
close of evening.

It was not, however, upon their first meeting that Edward
had an opportunity of making these less favourable remarks.
The Chief received him as a friend of the Baron of Bradwar-
dine, with the utmost expression of kindness, and obligation for
the visit ; upbraided him gently with choosing so rude an abode
as he had done the night before; and entered into a lively
conversation with him about Donald Bean's housekeeping, but
without the least hint as to his predatory habits, or the imme-
diate occasion of Waverley's visit, a topic which, as the Chief
did not introduce it, our hero also avoided. While they walked
merrily on towards the house of Glennaquoich, Evan, who now
fell respectfully into the rear, followed with Callum Beg and
Dugald Mahony.

We shall take the opportunity to introduce the reader to
some particulars of Fergus Mac-Ivor's character and history,
which were not completely known to Waverley till after a
connection, which, though arising from a circumstance so casual,
had for a length of time the deepest influence upon his character,
actions, and prospects. But this, being an important subject,
must form the commencement of a new chapter.

CHAPTER NINETEENTH.

THE CHIEF AND HIS MANSION.

The ingenious licentiate, Francisco de Ubeda, when he com-
menced his history of La Picara Justina Diez, — which, by the
way, is one of the most rare books of Spanish literature, —
complained of his pen having caught up a hair, and forthwith
begins, with more eloquence than common sense, an aff'ectionate
expostulation with that useful implement, upbraiding it with
being the quill of a goose, — a bird inconstant by nature, as
frequenting the three elements of water, earth, and air, indiffer-
ently, and being, of course, "to one thing constant never."

134 WAVEELEY NOVELS.

Now I protest to thee, gentle reader, that I entirely dissent
from Francisco de Ubeda in this matter, and hold it the most
useful quality of my pen, that it can speedily change from grave
to gay, and from description and dialogue to narrative and
character. So that, if my quiU display no other properties of
its mother-goose than her mutability, truly I shall be well
pleased ; and I conceive that you, my worthy friend, will have
no occasion for discontent. From the jargon, therefore, of the
Highland gillies, I pass to the character of their Chief It is
an important examination, and therefore, like Dogberry, we
must spare no wisdom.

The ancestor of Fergus Mac-Ivor, about three centuries
before, had set up a claim to be recognised as chief of the
numerous and powerful clan to which he belonged, the name
of which it is unnecessary to mention. Being defeated by an
opponent who had more justice, or at least more force, on his
side, he moved southwards, with those who adhered to him, in
quest of new settlements, like a second ^neas. The state of
the Perthshire Highlands favoured his purpose. A great baron
in that country had lately become traitor to the crown ; Ian,
which was the name of our adventurer, united himself with
those who were commissioned by the king to chastise him, and
did such good service, that he obtained a grant of the property,
upon which he and his posterity afterwards resided. He
followed the king also in war to the fertile regions of England,
where he employed his leisui-e hom-s so actively in raising
subsidies among the boors of Northumberland and Durham,
that upon his return he was enabled to erect a stone tower, or
fortalice, so much admired by his dependents and neighbours,
that he, who had hitherto been called Ian Mac-Ivor, or John
the son of Ivor, was thereafter distiuguished, both in song and
genealogy, by the high title of Ian nan Chaistel, or John of
the Tower. The descendants of this worthy were so proud of
him, that the reigning chief always bore the patronymic title
of Vich Ian Vohr, i.e. the son of John the Great ; while the
clan at large, to distinguish them from that from which they
had seceded, were denominated Sliochd nan Ivor, the race
of Ivor.

The father of Fergus, the tenth in dii"ect descent from John
of the Tower, engaged heart and hand in the insuiTection of
1715, and was forced to fly to France, after the attempt of that

WAVERLEY. 135

year iu favour of the Stuarts had proved unsuccessful. More
fortunate than other fugitives, he obtained employment in the
French service, and married a lady of rank in that kingdom,
by whom he had two children, Fergus and his sister Flora.
The Scottish estate had been forfeited and exposed to sale, but
was re-purchased for a small price in the name of the young
proprietor, who in consequence came to reside upon his native
domains.* It was soon perceived that he possessed a character
of uncommon acuteness, fire, and ambition, which, as he became
acquainted with the state of the country, gradually assumed a
mixed and peculiar tone, that could only have been acquired
Sixty Years since.

Had Fergus Mac-Ivor lived Sixty Years sooner than he did,
he would, in all probability, have wanted the polished manner
and knowledge of the world which he now possessed ; and had
he lived Sixty Years later, his ambition and love of rule would
have lacked the fuel which his situation now afforded. He
was indeed, within his little circle, as perfect a politician as
Castruccio Castrucani himself. He applied himself with great
earnestness to appease all the feuds and dissensions which often
arose among other clans iu his neighbourhood, so that he became
a frequent umpire in their quarrels. His own patriarchal power
he strengthened at every expense which his fortune would
permit, and indeed stretched his means to the uttermost, to
maintain the rude and plentiful hospitality, which was the
most valued attribute of a chieftain. For the same reason, he
crowded his estate with a tenantry, hardy indeed, and fit for
the purposes of war, but greatly outnumbering what the soil
was calculated to maintain. These consisted chiefly of his own
clan, not one of whom he sufi'ered to quit his lands if he could
possibly prevent it. But he maintained, besides, many adven-
turers from the mother sept, who deserted a less warlike, though
more wealthy chief, to do homage to Fergus Mac-Ivor. Other
individuals, too, who had not even that apology, were never-

* This happened on many occasions. Indeed, it was not till after the
total destruction of the clan influence, after 1745, that purchasers could be
found who offered a fair price for the estates forfeited in 1715, which were
then brought to sale by the creditors of the York-Buildings Company, who
had purchased the v/hole, or greater part, from Government at a very small
price. Even so late as the period first mentioned, the prejudices of the
public in favour of the heirs of the forfeited families threw various impedt
ments in the way of intending purchasers of such property.

136 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

theless received into his allegiance, which indeed was refused to
uoue who were, like Poins, proper men of their hands, and were
willing to assume the name of Mac-Ivor.

He was enabled to discipline these forces, from having
obtained command of one of the independent companies raised
by Government to preserve the peace of the Highlands. While
in this capacity he acted with vigour and spirit, and preserved
great order in the country under his charge. He caused his
vassals to enter by rotation into his company, and serve for a
certain space of time, which gave them all in turn a general
notion of military discipline. In his campaigns against the
banditti, it was observed that he assumed and exercised to the
utmost the discretionary power, which, while the law had no
free course in the Highlands, was conceived to belong to the
military parties who were called in to support it. He acted,
for example, with great and suspicious lenity to those free-
booters who made restitution on his summons, and offered
personal submission to himself, while he rigorously pursued,
apprehended, and sacrificed to justice, all such interlopers as
dared to despise his admonitions or commands. On the other
hand, if any officers of justice, military parties, or others, pre-
sumed to pursue thieves or marauders through his territories,
and without applying for his consent and concurrence, nothing
was more certain than that they would meet with some notable
foil or defeat ; upon which occasions Fergus Mac-Ivor was the
first to condole with them, and, after gently blaming their
rashness, never failed deeply to lament the lawless state of the
countiy. These lamentations did not exclude suspicion, and
matters were so represented to Government, that our Chieftain
was deprived of his military command.*

Whatever Fergus Mac-Ivor felt on this occasion, he had the
art of entirely suppressing every appearance of discontent ; but
in a short time the neighbouring country began to feel bad
effects from his disgrace. Donald Bean Lean, and others of
his class, whose depredations had hitherto been confined to
other districts, appeared from thenceforward to have made a
settlement on this devoted border; and their ravages were
carried on with little opposition, as the Lowland gentry were
chiefly Jacobites, and disarmed. This forced many of the
inhabitants into contracts of black-mail with Fergus Mac-Ivor,
* Note K. Hijrliland Policy.

I

WAVERLEY. 137

which not only established him their protector, and gave him
great weight in all their consultations, but, moreover, supplied
fimds for the waste of his feudal hospitality, which the discon-
tinuance of his pay might have otherwise essentially diminished.

In following this course of conduct, Fergus had a farther
object than merely being the great man of his neighbourhood,
and ruling despotically over a small clan. From his infancy
upward he had devoted himself to the cause of the exiled family,
and had persuaded himself, not only that their restoration to the
crown of Britain would be speedy, but that those who assisted
them would be raised to honour and rank. It was with this
view that he laboured to reconcile the Highlanders among them-
selves, and augmented his own force to the utmost, to be pre-
pared for the first favourable opportunity of rising. With this
purpose also he conciliated the favour of such Lowland gentle-
men in the vicinity as were friends to the good cause ; and for
the same reason, having incautiously quarrelled with Mr. Brad-
wardine, who, notwithstanding his peculiarities, was .much re-
spected in the country, he took advantage of the foray of Donald
Bean Lean to solder up the dispute in the manner we have
mentioned. Some, indeed, sm-mised that he caused the enter-
prise to be suggested to Donald on purpose to pave the way to
a reconciliation, which, supposing that to be the case, cost the
Laird of Bradwardine two good milch-cows. This zeal in their
behalf the House of Stuart repaid with a considerable share of
their confidence, an occasional supply of louis d'or, abundance of
fair words, and a parchment, with a huge waxen seal appended,
purporting to be an Earl's patent, granted by no less a person
than James the Third King of England, and Eighth King of
Scotland, to his right leal, trusty, and well-beloved Fergus Mac-
Ivor of Glennaquoich, in the county of Perth, and kingdom of
Scotland.

With this future coronet glittering before his eyes, Fergus
plunged deeply into the correspondence and plots of that un-
happy period ; and, like all such active agents, easily reconciled
his conscience to going certain lengths in the service of his
party, from which honour and pride would have deterred him
had his sole object been the direct advancement of his own per-
sonal interest. With this insight into a bold, ambitious, and
ardent, yet artful and politic character, we resume the broken
thread of our naiTative,

isfe

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

The Chief and his guest had by this time reached the house
of Glennaquoich, which consisted of Ian nan Chaistel's mansion,
a high rude-looking square tower, with the addition of a lofted
house, that is, a building of two storeys, constructed by Fergus's
grandfather when he retiuned from that memorable expedition,
well remembered by the western shires, under the name of the
Highland Host. Upon occasion of this crusade against the
Ayrshire "Whigs and Covenanters, the Vich Ian Vohr of the
time had probably been as successful as his predecessor was in
harrying Northumberland, and therefore left to his posterity a
rival edifice, as a monument of his magnificence.

Around the house, which stood on an eminence in the midst
of a narrow Highland valley, there appeared none of that atten-
tion to convenience, far less to ornament and decoration, which
usually surrounds a gentleman's habitation. An iuclosure or
two, divided by dry-stone walls, were the only part of the
domain that wa.s fenced ; as to the rest, the narrow slips of
level grcjund which lay by the side of the brook exhibited a
scanty crop of barley, liable to constant depredations from the
herds of wild ponies and black cattle that gi'azed upon the
adjacent hills. These ever and anon made an incursion upon
the arable ground, which was repelled by the loud, uncouth, and
dissonant shouts of half-a-dozen Highland swains, all running as
if they had been mad, and everyone hallooing a half-starved dog
to the rescue of the forage. At a little distance up the glen
was a small and stunted wood of birch ; the hills were high and
heathy, but without any variety of surface ; so that the whole
view was w^ld and desolate rather than grand and solitary.
Yet, such as it was, no genuine descendant of Ian nan Chaistel
would have changed the domain for Stow or Blenheim.

There was a sight, however, before the gate, which, perhaps,
would have afforded the first owner of Blenheim more pleasiu'e
than the finest view in the domain assigned to him by the grati-
tude of his country. This consisted of about a hundred High-
landers in complete dress and arms ; at sight of whom the Chief-
tain apologised to Waverley in a sort of negligent manner.
" He had forgot," he said, " that he had ordered a few of his
clan out for the purpose of seeing that they were in a fit condi-
tion to protect the country, and prevent such accidents as, he
was sorry to learn, had befallen the Baron of Bradwardine.

WAVERLEY. 1 39

Before they were dismissed, perhaps Captain Waverley might
choose to see them go through a part of tlieir exercise."

Edward assented, and the men executed with agility and
precision some of the ordiuaiy military movements. They then
practised individually at a mark, and showed extraordinary
dexterity in the management of the pistol and firelock. They
took aim standing, sitting, leaning, or lying prostrate, as they
were commanded, and always with eifect upon the target. Next,
they paired off for the broadsword exercise ; and liaving mani-
fested their individual skill and dexterity, united in two bodies,
and exhibited a sort of mock encounter, in which the charge,
the rally, the flight, the pursuit, and all the current of a heady
fight, were exhibited to the sound of the great war-bagpipe.

On a signal made by the Chief the skirmish was ended.
Matches were then made for running, wrestling, leaping, pitch-
ing the bar, and other sports, in which this feudal militia dis-
played incredible swiftness, strength, and agility; and accom-
plished the purpose which their Chieftain had at heart, by
impressing on Waverley no light sense of their merit as soldiers,
and of the power of him who commanded them by his nod.*

" And what number of such gallant fellows have the happi-
ness to call you leader?" asked Waverley.

" In a good cause, and under a chieftain whom they loved,
the race of Ivor have seldom taken the field under five hundred
claymores. But you are aware. Captain Waverley, that the
Disarming Act, passed about twenty years ago, prevents their
being in the complete state of preparation as in former times ;
and I keep no more of my clan under arms than may defend
my own or my friends' property when the country is troubled
with such men as your last night's landlord ; and Government,
which has removed other means of defence, must connive at our
protecting ourselves."

" But with your force you might soon destroy or put dowTi
such gangs as that of Donald Bean Lean."

"Yes, doubtless; and my reward would be a summons to
deliver up to General Blakeney at Stirling the few broadswords
they have left us ; there were little policy in that, methinks.
But come, Captain, the sound of the pipes informs me that
dinner is prepared. Let me have the honour to show you into
my nide mansion."

* Note L, Highland Discipline.

1^0 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER TWENTIETH.

A HIGHLAND FEAST.

Ere Waverley entered the banqueting hall, he was offered the
patriarchal refreshment of a bath for the feet, which the sultry
weather, and the morasses he had traversed, rendered highly
acceptable. He was not, indeed, so luxuriously attended upon
this occasion as the heroic travellers in the Odyssey ; the task
of ablution and abstersion being performed, not by a beautiful
damsel, trained

To chafe the limb, and pour the fragrant oil,

but by a smoke-dried skinny old Highland woman, who did not
seem to think herself much honoured by the duty imposed upon
her, but muttered between her teeth, " Our fathers' herds did
not feed so near together, that I should do you this service." A
small donation, however, amply reconciled this ancient hand-
maiden to the supposed degradation ; and, as Edward proceeded
to the hall, she gave him her blessing, in the Gaelic proverb,
" May the open hand be filled the fullest."

The hall, in which the feast was prepared, occupied the first
storey of Ian nan Chaistel's original erection, and a huge oaken
table extended through its whole length. The apparatus for
dinner was simple, even to rudeness, and the company numer-
ous, even to crowding. At the head of the table was the Chief
himself, with Edward, and two or three Highland visitors of
neighbouring clans ; the elders of his own tribe, wadsetters, and
tacksmen, as they were called, who occupied portions of his
estate as mortgagers or lessees, sat next in rank ; beneath them,
their sons, and nephews, and foster-brethren ; then the oSicers
of the Chief's household, according to their order ; and, lowest
of all, the tenants who actually cultivated the ground. Even
beyond this long perspective, Edward might see upon the green,
to which a huge pair of folding doors opened, a multitude of
Highlanders of a yet inferior description, who, nevertheless,
were considered as guests, and had their share both of the
coimtenance of the entertainer, and of the cheer of the day. In
the distance, and fluctuating round this extreme verge of the
banquet, was a changeful group of women, ragged boys and

WAVERLEY. 141

gii'ls, beggars, young and old, large greyhounds, and terriers,
and pointers, and curs of low degree ; all of whom took some
interest, more or less immediate, in the main action of the piece,

This hospitality, apparently unbounded, had yet its line of
economy. Some pains had been bestowed in dressing the dishes
of fish, game, etc., which were at the upper end of the table,
and immediately under the eye of the English stranger. Lower
do^vn stood immense clumsy joints of mutton and beef, which,
but for the absence of pork,* abhorred in the Highlands, resem-
bled the rude festivity of the banquet of Penelope's suitors.
But the central dish was a yearling lamb, called, "a hog in
har'st," roasted whole. It was set upon its legs, with a bunch
of parsley in its mouth, and was probably exhibited in that form
to gratify the pride of the cook, who piqued himself more on
the plenty than the elegance of his master's table. The sides
of this poor animal were fiercely attacked by the clansmen, some
with dirks, others with the knives which were usually in the
same sheath with the dagger, so that it was soon rendered a
mangled and rueful spectacle. Lower down still, the victuals
seemed of yet coarser quality, though sufficiently abundant.
Broth, onions, cheese, and the fragments of the feast, regaled
the sons of Ivor who feasted in the open air.

The liquor was supplied in the same proportion, and under
similar regulations. Excellent claret and champagne were
liberally distributed among the Chief's immediate neighbours ;
whisky, plain or diluted, and strong beer, refreshed those who
sat near the lower end. Nor did this inequality of distribution
appear to give the least ofience. Every one present understood
that his taste was to be formed according to the rank which he
held at table; and, consequently, the tacksmen and their
dependants always professed the wine was too cold for their

* Pork or swine's flesh, in any shape, was, till of late years, much
abominated by the Scotch, nor is it yet a favourite food amongst them.
King Jamie carried this prejudice to England, and is known to have
abhorred pork almost as much as he did tobacco. Ben Jonson has re-
corded this peculiarity, where the gipsy in a masque, examining the king's
hand, says —

" You should, by this lino,

Love a horse, and a hound, but no part of a swine. "

The Gipsies Metamorphosed.

James's own proposed banquet for the devil was a loin of pork and a poU
of ling, with a pipe of tobacco for digestion.

li% WAVERLEY NOVELS.

stomachs, and called, apparently out of choice, for the liquor
which was assigned to them from economy.* The bagpipers,
three in number, screamed, during the whole time of diimer, a
tremendous war-tune ; and the echoing of the vaulted roof, and
clang of the Celtic tongue, produced such a Babel of noises,
that Waverley dreaded his ears would never recover it. Mac-
Ivor, indeed, apologised for the confusion occasioned by so large
a party, and pleaded the necessity of his situation, on which
unlimited hospitality was imposed as a paramount duty. "These
stout idle kinsmen of mine," he said, " account my estate as
held in trust for their support ; and I must find them beef and
ale, while the rogues will do nothing for themselves but practise
the broadsword, or wander about the hills, shooting, fishing,
hunting, drinking, and making love to the lasses of the strath.
But what can I do. Captain Waverley 1 everything will keep
after its kind, whether it be a hawk or a Highlander." Edward
made the expected answer, in a compliment upon his possessing
Bo many bold and attached followers.

"Why, yes," replied the Chief, were I disposed, like my
father, to put myself in the way of getting one blow on the
head, or two on the neck, I believe the loons would stand by
me. But who thinks of that in the present day, when the
maxim is — ' Better an old woman with a purse in her hand,
than three men with belted brands 1 ' " Then, turning to the
company, he proposed the "Health of Captain Waverley, a
worthy friend of his kind neighbour and ally, the Baron of
Bradwardine."

" He is welcome hither," said one of the elders, " if he come
from Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine."

" I say nay to that," said an old man, who apparently did
not mean to pledge the toast ; "I say nay to that ; — while
there is a green leaf in the forest, there will be fraud in a
Comyne."

" There is nothing but honour in the Baron of Bradwardine,"
answered another ancient ; " and the guest that comes hither
from him should be welcome, though he came with blood on
his hand, unless it were blood of the race of Ivor."

The old man, whose cup remained full, replied, " There has
been blood enough of the race of Ivor on the hand of Brad-
wardine."

* Note M. A Scottish Dinuer Table.

WAVERLEY. 143

" All ! Ballenkeiroch," replied the first, " you think rather
of the Hash of the carbine at the Mains of TuUy-Veolan, than
the glance of the sword that fought for the cause at Preston."

" And well I may," answered Ballenkeiroch ; "the flash of
the g-un cost me a fair-haired son, and the glance of the sword
has done but little for King James."

The Chieftain, in two words of French, explained to Waver-
ley, that the Baron had shot this old man's son in a fray near
Tully-Veolan about seven years before ; and then hastened to
remove Ballenkeiroch's prejudice, by informing him that
Waverley w^as an Englishman, unconnected by birth or alliance
with the family of Bradwardine ; upon which the old gentleman
raised the hitherto-untasted cup, and courteously drank to his
health. This ceremony being requited in kind, the Chieftain
made a signal for the pipes to cease, and said aloud, " Where
is the song hidden, my friends, that Mac-Murrough cannot
find it?"

Mac-Murrough, the family hhairdh, an aged man, immedi-
ately took the hint, and began to chant, with low and rapid
utterance, a profusion of Celtic verses, which were received by
the audience with all the applause of enthusiasm. As he
advanced in his declamation, his ardour seemed to increase.
He had at first spoken with his eyes fixed on the ground ; he
now cast them around as if beseeching, and anon as if command-
ing, attention, and his tones rose into wild and impassioned notes,
accompanied with appropriate gestures. He seemed to Edward,
who attended to him with much interest, to recite many proper
names, to lament the dead, to apostrophize the absent, to exhort,
and entreat, and animate those who were present. Waverley
thought he even discerned his own name, and was convinced his
conjecture was right, from the eyes of the company being at that
moment turned towards him simultaneously. The ardour of
the poet appeared to communicate itself to the audience. Their
wild and sun-burnt countenances assumed a fiercer and more
animated expression ; all bent forward towards the reciter, many
sprung up and waved their arms in ecstasy, and some laid their
hands on their swords. When the song ceased, there was a
deep pause, while the aroused feelings of the poet and of the
hearers gradually subsided into their usual channel.

The Chieftain, who during this scene had appeared rather to
watch the emotions which were excited, than to partake tlieir

144

WAVEKLEY NOVELS.

high tone of enthusiasm, filled with claret a small silver cup
which stood by him. " Give this," he said to an attendant,
" to Mac-Murrough nan Fonn (i.e. of the songs), and when he
has drank the juice, bid him keep, for the sake of Vich Ian
Vohr, the shell of the gourd which contained it." The gift was
received by Mac-Murrough with profound gratitude ^ he drank
the wine, and, kissing the cup, shrouded it with reverence in
the plaid which was folded on his bosom. He then burst forth
into what Edward justly supposed to be an extemporaneous
eftusion of thanks, and praises of his Chief. It was received
with applause, but did not produce the effect of his first poem.
It was obvious, however, that the clan regarded the generosity
of their Chieftain with high approbation. Many approved
Gaelic toasts were then proposed, of some of which the Chieftain
gave his guest the following versions : —

" To him that will not turn his back on friend or foe." " To
him that never forsook a comrade." " To him that never
bought or sold justice." " Hospitality to the exile, and broken
bones to the tyrant." "The lads with the kilts." "High-
landers, shoulder to shoulder," — with many other pithy senti-
ments of the like nature.

Edward was particularly solicitous to know the meaning of
that song which appeared to produce such efiect upon the
passions of the company, and hinted his curiosity to his host.
" As I observe," said the Chieftain, " that you have passed the
bottle during the last three rounds, I was about to propose to
you to retire to my sister's tea-table, who can explain these
things to you better than I can. Although I cannot stint my
clan in the usual current of their festivity, yet I neither am
addicted myself to exceed in its amount, nor do I," added he,
smiling, " keep a Bear to devour the intellects of such as can
make good use of them."

Edward readily assented to this proposal, and the Chieftain,
saying a few words to those around him, left the table, followed
by AVaverley. As the door closed behind them, Edward heard
Yich Ian Vohr's health invoked with a wild and animated
cheer, that expressed the satisfaction of the guests, and the
depth of their devotion to his service.

WAVERLEY. 145

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST.

THE chieftain's SISTER.

The drawing-room of Flora Mac-Ivor was furnished in tho
plainest and most simple manner ; for at Glennaquoich every
other sort of expenditure was retrenched as much as possible,
for the purpose of maintaining, in its full dignity, the hospitality
of the Chieftain, and retaining and multiplying the number of
his dependants and adherents. But there was no appearance
of this parsimony in the dress of the lady herself, which was in
texture elegant, and even rich, and arranged in a manner which
partook partly of the Parisian fashion, and partly of the more
simple dress of the Highlands, blended together with great taste.
Her hair was not disfigured by the art of the friseur, but fell
in jetty ringlets on her neck, confined only by a circlet, richly
set with diamonds. This pecidiarity she adopted in compliance
with the Highland prejudices, which could not endure that a
woman's head should be covered before wedlock.

Flora Mac-Ivor bore a most striking resemblance to her
brother Fergus ; so much so, that they might have played Viola
and Sebastian ^vith the same exquisite effect produced by the
appearance of Mrs. Henry Siddons and her brother, Mr.
William Murray, in these characters. They had the same
antique and regular correctness of profile ; the same dark eyes, ■
eye-lashes, and eye-brows ; the same clearness of complexion,
excepting that Fergus's was embrowned by exercise, and Flora's
possessed the utmost feminine delicacy. But the haughty, and
somewhat stern regidarity of Fergus's features was beautifully
softened in those of Flora. Their voices were also similar in
tone, though difiering in the key. That of Fergus, especially
while issuing orders to his followers diuing their military
exercise, reminded Edward of a favourite passage in the descrip-
tion of Emetrius : —

whose voice was heard arounil,

Loud as a trumpet with a silver sound.

That of Flora, on the contrary, wjis soft and sweet, — "an
excellent thing in woman;" yet. in urging any favourite topic,

\^0L. I. I

— ^

146 WAVERLEY NOVELS

which she often pursued with natural eloquence, it possessed
well the tones which impress awe and conviction, as those
persuasive insinuation. The eager glance of the keen black
eye, which in the Chieftain seemed impatient even of the
material obstacles it encountered, had, in his sister, acquired a
gentle pensiveness. His looks seemed to seek glory, power, all
that could exalt him above others in the race of humanity ;
while those of his sister, as if she were already conscious of
mental superiority, seemed to pity, rather than envy, those who
were struggling for any farther distinction. Her sentiments
corresponded with the expression of her countenance. Early
education had impressed upon her mind, as well as on that of
the Chieftain, the most devoted attachment to the exiled family
of Stuart. She believed it the duty of her brother, of his clan,
of every man in Britain, at whatever personal hazard, to contri-
bute to that restoration which the partizans of the Chevalier de
St. George had not ceased to hope for. For this she was pre-
pared to do all, to suffer all, to sacrifice all. [Bui her loyalty,
as it exceeded her brother's in fanaticism, excelled it also in
purityT] Accustomed to petty intrigue, and necessarily involved
in a thousand paltry and selfish discussions, ambitious also by
nature, his political faith was tinctured, at least, if not tainted,
by the views of interest and advancement so easily combined
with it ; and at the moment he should unsheathe his claymore,
it might be difficult to say whether it would be most with the
view of making James Stuart a king, or Fergus Mac-Ivor an
earl. This, indeed, was a mixture of feeling which he did not
avow even to himself, but it existed, nevertheless, in a powerful
degree.

In Flora's bosom, on the contrary, the zeal ofjoyalty burnt
pure and unmixed with any selfish feelmg ; she would have as
soon made religion the mask of ambitious and interested views,
as have shrouded them under the opinions which she had been
taught to think patriotism. Such instances of devotion were
not uncommon among the followers of the unhappy race of
Stuart, of which many memorable proofs will recur to the mind
of most of my readers. But peculiar attention on the part of
the Chevalier de St. George and his princess to the parents of
Fergus and his sister, and to themselves when orphans, had
rivetted their faith. Fergus, upon the death of his parents, had
been for some time a page of honour in the train of the Cheva

4

WAVERLEY. 147

liers lady, and, from his beauty and sprightly temper, waa
uniformly treated by her with the utmost distinction. This
was also extended to Flora, who was maintained for some time
at a convent of the first order, at the princess's expense, and
removed from thence into her own family, where she spent
nearly two years. Both brother and sister retained the deepest
and most grateful sense of her kindness.

Having thus touched upon the leading principle of Flora's
character, I may dismiss the rest more slightly. She was highly
accomplished, and had acquired those elegant manners to be
expected from one who, in early youth, had been the companion
of a princess ; yet she had not learned to substitute the gloss of
politeness for the reality of feeling. When settled in the lonely
regions of Glennaquoich, she found that her resources in French,
English, and Italian literature, were likely to be few and
interrupted; and, in order to fill up the vacant time, she
bestowed a part of it upon the music and poetical traditions of
the Highlanders, and began really to feel the pleasure in the
pursuit, which her brother, whose perceptions of literary merit
were more blunt, rather affected for the sake of popularity than
actually experienced. Her resolution was strengthened in these
researches by the extreme delight which her inquiries seemed
to afford those to whom she resorted for information.

Her love of her clan, an attachment which was almost heredi- \e>^^^'^\X
tary in'^her bosom, was, like her loyalty, a more pure passion
than that of her brother. He was too thorough a politician,
regarded his patriarchal influence too much as the means of
accomplishing his own aggrandizement, that we should term
him the model of a Highland Chieftain. Flora felt the same
anxiety for cherishing and extending their patriarchal sway, but
it was with the generous desire of vindicating from poverty, or
at least from want and foreign oppression, those whom her
brother was by birth, according to the notions of the time and
country, entitled to govern. The savings of her income, for
she had a small pension from the Princess Sobieski, were
dedicated, not to add to the comforts of the peasantry, for that
was a word which they neither knew nor apparently wished to
know, but to relieve their absolute necessities, when in sickness
or extreme old age. At every other period, they rather toUed
to procure something which they might share with the Chief as
a proof of their attachment^ than expected other assistance

148 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

from him save what was afforded by the rude hospitaKty of hia
castle, and the general division and subdivision of his estate
among them. Flora was so much beloved by them, that when
Mac-Murrough composed a song, in which he enumerated all
the principal beauties of the district, and intimated her supe-
riority by concluding, that "the fairest apple hung on the
highest bough," he received, in donatives from the individuals
of the clan, more seed-barley than would have sowed his
Highland Parnassus, the Bard's croft, as it was called, ten
times over.

From situation, as well as choice. Miss Mac-Ivor's society was
extremely limited. Her most intimate friend had been Rose
Bradwardine, to whom she was much attached ; and when seen
together, they would have afforded an artist two admirable
subjects for the gay and the melancholy muse. Indeed Rose
was so tenderly watched by her father, and her circle of wishes
was so limited, that none arose but what he was willing to
gratify, and scarce any which did not come within the compass
of his power. With Flora it was otherwise. While almost a
girl, she had undergone the most complete change of scene,
from gaiety and splendour to absolute solitude and comparative
poverty ; and the ideas and wishes which she chiefly fostered,
respected great national events, and changes not to be brought
round without both hazard and bloodshed, and therefore not to
be thought of with levity. Her manner, consequently, was
grave, though she readily contributed her talents to the amuse-
ment of society, and stood very high in the opinion of the old
Baron, who used to sing along with her such French duets of
Lindor and Cloris, etc., as were in fashion about the end of the
reign of old Louis le Grand.

It was generally believed, though no one durst have hinted
it to the Baron of Bradwardine, that Flora's entreaties had no
small share in allaying the wrath of Fergus upon occasion of
their quarrel. She took her brother on the assailable side, by
dwelling first upon the Baron's age, and then representing the
injury which the cause might sustain, and the damage which
must arise to his own character in point of pnidence, so neces-
sary to a political agent, if he persisted in carrying it to
extremity. Otherwise it is probable it would have terminated
in a duel, both because the Bai'on had, on a former occasion,
shed blood of the clan, though the matter had been timely

WAVERLEY. 149

accommodated, and on account of his high reputation for
address at his weapon, which Fergus abnost condescended to
envy. For the same reason she had urged their reconciliation,
wliich the Chieftain the more readily agreed to, as it favoured
some ulterior projects of his own.

To this young lady, now presiding at the female empire of
the tea-table, Fergus introduced Captain Waverley, whom she
received with the usual forms of politeness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND.

HIGHLAND MINSTKELSY.

When the first salutations had passed, Fergus said to his
sister, " My dear Flora, before I return to the barbarous ritual
of our forefathers, I must tell you that Captain Waverley is a
worshipper of the Celtic muse, not the less so perhaps that he
does not understand a word of her language. I have told him
you are eminent as a translator of Highland poetry, and that
Mac-Murrough admires your version of his songs upon the
same principle that Captain Waverley admires the original, —
because he does not comprehend them. Will you have the
goodness to read or recite to our guest in English, the extra-
ordinary string of names which Mac-Murrough has tacked
together in Gaelic 1 — My life to a moorfowl's feather, you are
provided with a version ; for I know you are in all the bard's
coimcils, and acquainted with his songs long before he rehearses
them in the hall."

" How can you say so, Fergus 1 You know how little these
verses can possibly interest an English stranger, even if I could
translate them as you pretend."

"Not less than they interest me, lady fair. To-day your
joint composition, for I insist you had a share in it, has cost me
the last silver cup in the castle, and I suppose will cost me
something else next time I hold cour pUnUre, if the muse
descends on Mac-Murrough; for you know our proverb, —
When the hand of the chief ceases to bestow, the breath of the
bard is frozen in the utterance. — Well, I would it were even
BO : there are three things that are useless to a modern High-

150 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

lander, — a sword which he must not draw, — a bard to sing of
deeds which he dare not imitate, — and a large goat-skin purse
without a louis-d'or to put into it."

"Well, brother, since you betray my secrets, you cannot
expect me to keep yours. — I assure you. Captain Waverley, that
Fergus is too proud to exchange his broadsword for a mare-
chal's baton ; that he esteems Mac-Murrough a far greater poet
than Homer, and would not give up his goat-skin purse for all
the louis-d'or which it could contain."

"Well pronounced. Flora; blow for blow, as Conan* said to
the devil. Now do you two talk of bards and poetry, if not of
purses and claymores, while I return to do the final honours to
the senators of the tribe of Ivor." So saying, he left the room.

The conversation continued between Flora and Waverley;
for two well-dressed young women, whose character seemed to
hover between that of companions and dependants, took no
share in it. They were both pretty girls, but served only as
foils to the grace and beauty of their patroness. The discourse
followed the turn which the Chieftain had given it, and
Waverley was equally amused and surprised with the account
which the lady gave him of Celtic poetry.

" The recitation," she said, " of poems, recording the feats of
heroes, the complaints of lovers, and the wars of contending
tribes, forms the chief amusement of a winter fireside in the
Highlands. Some of these are said to be very ancient, and if
they are ever translated into any of the languages of civilized
Europe, cannot fail to produce a deep and general sensation.
Others are more modern, the composition of those family bards
whom the chieftains of more distinguished name and power
retain as the poets and historians of their tribes. These, of
course, possess various degrees of merit ; but much of it must
evaporate in translation, or be lost on those who do not sympa-
thise with the feelings of the poet."

"And your bard, whose effusions seemed to produce such
effect upon the company to day, — is he reckoned among the
favourite poets of the mountain V

" That is a trying question. His reputation is high among
his countrymen, and you must not expect me to depreciate it,"t

* Note N. " Conan the Jester."
+ Tlie Highland poet almost always was an improvisatore. Captain
Burt (author of Letters from the ^orth of Scotland)^ met one of them at
Lovat's table.

WAVEKLET. 151

" But the song, Miss Mac-Ivor, seemed to awaken all those
warriors, both young and old,"

" The song is little more than a catalogue of names of the
Highland clans under their distinctive peculiarities, and an
exhortation to them to remember and to emulate the actions of
their forefathers."

"And am I wrong in conjecturing, however extraordinary
the guess appears, that there was some allusion to me in the
verses which he recited?"

" You have a quick observation, Captain Waverley, which, in
this instance has not deceived you. The Gaelic language, being
uncommonly vocalic, is well adapted for sudden and extempora-
neous poetry ; and a bard seldom fails to augment the effects
of a premeditated song, by throwing in any stanzas which may
be suggested by the circumstances attending the recitation."

" I would give my best horse to know what the Highland
bard could find to say of such an unworthy Southron as myself."

" It shaU not even cost you a lock of his mane. — Una, Ma-
voumeen ! (She spoke a few words to one of the young girls
in attendance, who instantly curtsied, and tripped out of the
room. ) — I have sent Una to learn from the bard the expressions
he used, and you shall command my skill as dragoman."

Una returned in a few minutes, and repeated to her mistress
a few lines in Gaelic. Flora seemed to think for a moment,
and then, slightly colouring, she turned to Waverley — " It is
impossible to gratify your curiosity, Captain Waverley, without
exposing my own presumption. If you will give me a few
moments for consideration, I will endeavour to engraft the
meaning of these lines upon a rude English translation, which
I have attempted, of a part of the original. The duties of the
tea-table seem to be concluded, and, as the evening is delightful,
Una will show you the way to one of my favourite haunts, and
Cathleen and I will join you there."

Una, having received instructions hi her native language,
conducted Waverley out by a passage different from that through
which he had entered the apartment. At a distance he heard
the hall of the chief still resounding with the clang of bagpipes
and the high applause of his guests. Having gained the open
air by a postern door, they walked a little way up the wild,
bleak, and narrow valley in which the house was situated,
following the course of the stream that winded through it. In

152 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

a spot, about a quarter of a mile from the castle, two brooks^
which formed the little river, had their junction. The larger
of the two came down the long bare valley, which extended,
apparently without any change or elevation of character, as far
as the hills which formed its boundary permitted the eye to
reach. But the other stream, which had its source among the
mountains on the left hand of the strath, seemed to issue from
a very narrow and dark opening betwixt two large rocks. These
streams were different also in character. The larger was placid,
and even sullen in its course, wheeling in deep eddies, or sleeping
in dark blue pools ; but the motions of the lesser brook were
rapid and furious, issuing from between precipices, like a maniac
from his confinement, all foam and uproar.

It was up the course of this last stream that Waverley, like
a knight of romance, was conducted by the fair Highland damsel,
Eis'silent guide. A small path, which had been rendered easy
in many places for Flora's accommodation, led him through
scenery of a very different description from that which he had
just quitted. Around the castle, all was cold, bare, and desolate,
yet tame even in desolation ; but this narrow glen, at so short
a distance, seemed to open into the land of romance. The rocks
assumed a thousand peculiar and varied forms. In one place a
crag of huge size presented its gigantic bulk, as if to forbid the
passenger's farther progress ; and it was not until he approached
its very base, that Waverley discerned the sudden and acute
turn by which the pathway wheeled its course around this formi-
dable obstacle. In another spot, the projecting rocks from the
opposite sides of the chasm had approached so near to each other,
that two pine-trees laid across, and covered with turf, formed a
nistic bridge at the height of at least one hundred and fifty
feet. It had no ledges, and was barely three feet in breadth.
f While gazing at this pass of peril, which crossed, like a single

black line, the small portion of blue sky not intercepted by the
projecting rocks on either side, it was with a sensation of horror
that Waverley beheld Flora and her attendant appear, like
inhabitants of another region, propped, as it were, in mid air,
upon this trembling structure. She stopped upon observing
him below, and with an air of graceful ease, which made him
shudder, waved her handkerchief to him by way of signal. He
was unable, from the sense of dizziness which her situation
conveyed, to return the salute : and was never more relieved

/

WAVERLEY. 163

than when the fair apparition passed on from the precarious
eminence which she seemed to occupy with so much indifference,
and disappeared on the other side.

Advancing a few yards, and passing under the bridge which
he had viewed with so much terror, the path ascended rapidly
from the edge of the brook, and the glen widened into a sylvan
amphitheatre, waving with birch, young oaks, and hazels, with
here and there a scattered yew-tree. The rocks now receded,
but still showed their grey and shaggy crests rising among the
copse-wood. Still higher, rose eminences and peaks, some bare,
some clothed with wood, some round and purple with heath,
and others splintered into rocks and crags. At a short turning,
the path, which had for some furlongs lost sight of the brook,
suddenly placed Waverley in front of a romantic waterfoll. It
was not so remarkable either for great height ~or quantity of
water, as for the beautiful accompaniments which made the spot
interesting. After a broken cataract of about twenty feet, the
stream was received in a large natural basin filled to the brim
with water, which, when the bubbles of the fall subsided, was
BO exquisitely clear, that, although it was of great depth, the
eye could discern each pebble at the bottom. Eddying round
this reservoir, the brook found its way over a broken part of the
ledge, and formed a second fall, which seemed to seek the very
abyss ; then, wheeling out beneath from among the smooth
dark rocks, which it had polished for ages, it wandered mur-
muring down the glen, forming the stream up which Waverley
had just ascended.* The borders of this romantic reservoir
corresponded in beauty; biit it was beauty of a stern and
commanding cast, as if in the act of expanding into grandeur.
Mossy banks of turf were broken and interrupted by huge
fragments of rock, and decorated with trees and shrubs, some
of which had been planted under the direction of Flora, but so
cautiously, that they added to the grace, without diminishing
the romantic wildness of the scene.

Here, lUie one~~ol' those lovely forms which decorate the /
landscapes of Poussin, Waverley found Flora gazing on the <5^
waterfall. Two paces further back stood Cathleen, holding a ^^^
small Scottish harp, the use of which had been taught to Flora
by Rory Dall, one of the last harpers of the Western Highlands,
The sun, now stooping in the west, gave a rich and varied tinge
* Note O. «' Waterfall."

164 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

to all the objects which surrounded Waverley, and seemed to
add more than human brilliancy to the full expressive darkness
ofJ]]Dia!!s_eye, exalted the richness and purity of her complexion,
and enhanced the dignity and grace of her beautiful form.
Edward thought he had never, even in his wildest dreams,
imagined a figure of such exquisite and interesting loveliness.
The wild beauty of the retreat, bursting upon him as if by
magic, augmented the mingled feeling of delight and awe with
which he approached her, like a fair enchantress of Boiardo or

/^:Ajiosto, by whose nod the scenery around seemed to have been
k created, an Eden in the wilderness.

[ Flora, like every beautiful woman, was conscious of her own
power, and pleased with its effects, which she could easily discern
from the respectful, yet confused address of the young soldier.
But, as she possessed excellent sense, she gave the romance of
the scene, and other accidental circumstances, full weight in
appreciating the feelings with which Waverley seemed obviously
to be impressed ; and, unacquainted with the fanciful and
susceptible peculiarities of his character, considered his homage
as the passing tribute which a woman of even inferior charms
might have expected in such a situation. She therefore quietly
led the way to a spot at such a distance from the cascade, that
its sound should rather accompany than interrupt that of her
voice and instrument, and, sitting down upon a mossy fragment
of rock, she took the harp from Cathleen.

" I have given you the trouble of walking to this spot. Captain
Waverley, both because I thought the scenery would interest
you, and because a Highland song would suffer still more from
my imperfect translation, were I to introduce it without its own
wild and appropriate accompaniments. To speak in the poetical
language of my country, the seat of the Celtic muse is in the
mist of the secret and solitary hill, and her voice in the murmur
of the mountain stream. He who wooes her must love the
barren rock more than the fertile valley, and the solitude of the
desert better than the festivity of the hall."

Few could have heard this lovely woman make this de-
claration, with a voice where harmony was exalted by pathos,
without exclaiming that the muse whom she invoked could
never find a more appropriate representative. But Waverley,
though the thought rushed on his mind, found no courage to
utter it. Indeed, the wild feeling of romantic delight with

WAVERLEY. 165

which he heard the first few notes she drew from her instni-
meut, amounted almost to a sense of pain. He would not for
worlds have quitted his place by her side ; yet he almost longed
for solitude, that he might decipher and examine at leisure the
complication of emotions which now agitated his bosom.

Flora had exchanged the measured and monotonous recitative
of the bard for a lofty and uncommon Highland air, which had
been a battle-song in former ages. A few irregular strains
introduced a prelude of a wild and peculiar tone, which har-
monized well with the distant waterfall, and the soft sigh of
the evening breeze in the rustling leaves of an aspen which
overhung the seat of the fair harpress. The following verses
convey but little idea of the feelings with which, so sung and
accompanied, they were heard by Waverley : —

Battle ^0nfl.

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 ;
ft has frozen each heart, and benumbed every hand !

The dirk and the target lie sordid with dust ;
The bloodless claymore is but reddened with rust ;
On the hill or the glen if a gun should appear,
It is only to war vnth 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 hushed every tone,
That shall bid us remember the fame that is flown !

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

0 high-minded Moray ! f — the exiled — the dear ! —
In the blush of the dawning the Standard uprear !
Wide, wide on the winds of the north let it fly,
Like the sun's latest flash when the tempest is nigh !

* 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 Dr. Gregory.

t The Marquis of Tullibardine's elder brother, who, long exile J, returned to
Rcothind with Charles Edward in 1745.

156 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

ye sons of the strong, when that dawning shall break,
Need the harp of the aged remind you to wake ?
That dawn never beamed on your forefathers' eye,
But it roused each high chieftain to vanquish or die.

0 ! sprung from the kings who in Islay kept state,
Proud chiefs of Clan Ranald, Glengarry, and Sleat !
Combine like three streams from one mountain of snow,
And resistless in union rush down on the foe !

True son of Sir Evan, undaunted Lochiel,
Place thy targe on thy shoulder and burnish thy steel !
Rough Keppoch, give breath to thy bugle's bold swell,
Till far Coryarrick resound to the knell !

Stem son of Lord Kenneth, high chief of Kintail,
Let the stag in thy standard bound wild in the gale !
May the race of Clan Gillean, the fearless and free,
Remember Glenlivat, Harlaw, and Dundee !

Let the clan of grey Fingon, whose offspring has given
Such heroes to earth, and such martyrs to heaven,
Unite with the race of renowned Rorri More,
To launch the long galley, and stretch to the oar.

How Mac-Shimei will joy when their chief shall display
The yew-crested bonnet o'er tresses of grey !
How the race of wronged Alpine and mm-dered Glencoe
Shall shout for revenge when they pour on the foe !

Ye sons of brown Dermid, who slew the wild boar.
Resume the pure faith of the great Callum-More !
Mac-Neil of the Islands, and Moy of the Lake,
For honour, for freedom, for vengeance awake !

Here a large greyhound, bounding up the glen, jumped upon
Flora, and interrupted her music by his importmiate caresses.
At a distant whistle, he turned, and shot down the path again
with the rapidity of an arrow. "That is Fergus's faithful
attendant. Captain Waverley, and that was his signal. He
likes no poetry but what is humorous, and comes in good time
to interrupt my long catalogue of the tribes, whom one of your
saucy English poets calls

Our bootless host of high-bom beggars,
Mac-Leans, Mac-Kenzies, and Mac-Gregors."

Waverley expressed his regret at the interruption
" 0 you cannot guess how much you have lost ! The bard,
a,s in duty boimd. h<is addressed three long stanzas to Vich laji

WAVERLEY. 167

Vohr of the Banners, enumerating all his great properties, and
not forgetting his being a cheerer of the harper and bard, — * a
giver of bounteous gifts.' Besides, you should have heard a
practical admonition to the fair-haired son of the stranger, who
lives in the land were the grass is always green — the rider on
the shining pampered steed, whose hue is like the raven, and
whose neigh is like the scream of the eagle for battle. This
valiant horsemen is affectionately conjured to remember that
his ancestors were distinguished by their loyalty, as well as by
their courage. — All this you have lost ; but since your curiosity
is not satisfied, I judge, from the distant sound of my brother's
whistle, I may have time to sing the concluding stanzas before
he comes to laugh at my translation."

Awake on your hills, on your islands awake,
Brave sons of the mountain, the frith and the lake !
'Tis the bugle — but not for the chase is the call ;
'Tis the pibroch's shrill summons — but not to the halL

'' Tis the summons of heroes for conquest or death,
When the banners are blazing on mountain and heath :
They call to the dirk, the claymore, and the targe,
To the march and the muster, the line and the charge.

Be the brand of each Chieftain like Fin's in his ire !
May the blood through his veins flow like currents of fire !
Burst the base foreign yoke as your sires did of yore,
Or die like your sires, and endure it no more !

CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD.

WAVERLEY CONTINUES AT GLENNAQUOICH.

As Flora concluded her song, Fergus stood before them. "I
knew I should find you here, even without the assistance of my
friend Bran. A simple and unsublimed taste now, like my own,
would prefer a jet d'eau at Versailles to this cascade with all its
accompaniments of rock and roar ; but this is Flora's Parnassus,
Captain Waverley, and that fountain her Helicon. It would
be greatly for the benefit of my cellar if she could teach her
coadjutor, Mac-Murrough, the value of its influence : he has just
drunk a pint of usquebaugh to correct, he said, the coldr^css of

158 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

tlie claret- — Let me try its virtues." He sipped a little water
in the hollow of his hand, and immediately commwiced, with a
theatrical air, —

0 Lady of the desert, hail !
That lov'st the harping of the Gael,
Through fair and fertile regions borne,
Where never yet grew grass or com.

But English poetry will never succeed under the influence of a
Highland Helicon, — Allans courage! —

0 vous, qui buvez, a tasse pleine,
A cette heureuse fontaine.
Oh. on ne voit, sur le rivage.

Que quelques vilains troupeaux,
Suivis de nymphes de village,

Qui les escorten-t sans sabots"

" A truce, dear Fergus ! spare us those most tedious and
insipid persons of all Arcadia. Do not, for heaven's sake, bring
down Corridon and Lindor upon us."

" Nay, if you cannot relish la houlette et le chalumeau, have
with you in heroic strains."

" Dear Fergus, you have certainly partaken of the inspiration
of Mac-Murrough's cup rather than of mine."

" I disclaim it, ma belle demoiselle, although I protest it would
be the more congenial of the two. Which of your crack-brained
Italian romancers is it that says,

lo d'Elicona niente
Mi euro, in fe di Dio, che'l here d'acque
(Bea chi ber ne vuol) sempre me spiacque ! *

But if you prefer the Gaelic, Captain Waverley, here is little
Cathleen shall sing you Drimmindhu. — Come, Cathleen, astore
(i.e. my dear), begin ; no apologies to the Ceankinne."

Cathleen sung with much liveliness a little Gaelic song, the
burlesque elegy of a countryman on the loss of his cow, the
comic tones of which, though he did not understand the
language, made Waverley laugh more than once, t

* Good sooth, I reck not of your Helicon ;
Drink water whoso will, in faith I will drink none.
f This ancient Gaelic ditty is still well known, both in the Highlands
and in Ireland. It was translated into English, and published, if I mistake
Qot, under the auspices of the facetious Tom D'Urfey, by the title oi
"Colley, my Cow."

VVAVERLEY. 159

"Admirable, Cathleen !" cried the Chieftain; *' I must find
you a handsome husband among the clansmen one of these
days."

Cathleen laughed, blushed, and sheltered herself behind her
companion.

In the progress of their return to the castle, the Chieftain
warmly pressed Waverley to remain for a week or two, in order
to see a grand hunting party, in which he and some other
Highland gentlemen proposed to join. The charms of melody
and beauty were too strongly impressed in Edward's breast to
permit his declining an invitation so pleasing. It was agi-eod,
therefore, that he should write a note to the Baron of Bradwar-
dine, expressing his intention to stay a fortnight at Glennaquoich,
and requesting him to forward by the bearer (a gilly of the
Chieftain's) any letters which might have arrived for him.

This turned the discourse upon the Baron, whom Fergus
highly extolled as a gentleman and soldier. His character was
touched with yet more discrimination by Flora, who observed
that he was the very model of the old Scottish cavalier, with all
his excellences and peculiarities. "It is a character. Captain
Waverley, which is fast disappearing ; for its best point was a
self-respect, which was never lost sight of till now. But in the
present time the gentlemen whose principles do not permit them
to pay court to the existing government are neglected and de-
graded, and many conduct themselves accordingly; and, like
some of the persons you have seen at TuUy-Veolan, adopt habits
and companions inconsistent with their birth and breeding. The
ruthless proscription of party seems to degrade the victims whom
it brands, however unjustly. But let us hope that a brighter
day is approaching, when a Scottish country-gentleman may be
a scholar without the pedantry of our friend the Baron ; a
sportsman without the low habits of Mr. Falconer; and a
judicious improver of his property, without becoming a boorish
two-legged steer like Killancureit."

Thus did Flora prophesy a revolution, which time indeed has
produced, but in a manner very different from what she had in
her mind.

The amiable Rose was next mentioned, with the warmest
encomium on her person, manners, and mind. "That man,*'
said Flora, " will find an inestimable treasure in the affections
of Kose Bradwardine who shall be so fortunate as to become

160

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

A

fcheir object. Her very soul is in home, and in the discharge of
all those quiet virtues of which home is the centre. Her husband
will be to her what her father now is — the object of all her care,
solicitude, and aifection. She will see nothing, and connect
herself with nothing, but by him and through him. If he is a
man of sense and virtue, she will sympathise m his sorrows,
divert his fatigue, and share his pleasures. If she becomes the
property of a churlish or negligent husband, she will suit his
taste also, for she will not long survive his unkindness. And,
alas, how great is the chance that some such imworthy lot may
be that of my poor friend ! — 0 that I were a queen this
moment, and could command the most amiable and worthy
youth of my kingdom to accept happiness with the hand of Rose
Bradwardine !"

" I wish you would command her to accept mine en attendant"
said Fergus laughing.

I don't know by what caprice it was that this wish, however
jocularly expressed, rather jarred on Edward's feelings, notwith-
standing his growing inclination to Flora, and his indifference to
Miss Bradwardine. This is one of the inexplicabilities of human
nature, which we leave without comment.

"Yours, brother?" answered Flora, regarding him steadily.
" No ; you have another bride — Honour ; and the dangers you
must run in pursuit of her rival would break poor Rose's heart."

With this discourse they reached the castle, and Waverley
soon prepared his despatches for Tully-Veolan. As he knew
the Baron was punctilious in such matters, he was about to
impress his billet with a seal on which his armorial bearings
were engraved, but he did not find it at his watch, and thought
he must have left it at Tully-Veolan. He mentioned his loss,
borrowing at the same time the family seal of the Chieftain.

"Surely," said Miss Mac-Ivor, "Donald Bean Lean would
not"

" My life for him in such circumstances," answered her brother,
"besides, he would never have left the watch behuid."

" After all, Fergus," said Flora, " and with every aL.owance,
I am surprised you can countenance that man."

" I countenance him ! — This kind sister of mine would per-
suade you. Captain Waverley, that I take what the people of
old used to call a * steakraid,' that is, a * collop of the foray,' or,
in plainer words, a portion of the robber's booty, paid by hira

WAVERLEY. 161

to the Laird or Chief through whose grounds he drove his prey.
0, it is certain, that unless I can find some way to charm FJora's
tongue, General Blakeney will send a sergeant's party from
Stirling (this he said with haughty and emphatic irony) to seize
Vich Ian Vohr, as they nickname me, in his own castle."

" Now, Fergus, must not our guest be sensible that all this
is folly and affectation ? You have men enough to serve you
without enlisting banditti, and your own honour is above taint.
— Why don't you send this Donald Bean Lean, whom I hate
for his smoothness and duplicity even more than for his rapine,
out of your country at once 1 No cause should induce me to
tolerate such a character."

" No cause, Flora ! " said the Chieftain significantly.

" No cause, Fergus ! not even that which is nearest to my
heart. Spare it the omen of such evil supporters !"

" 0 but, sister," rejoined the Chief gaily, "you don't consider
my respect for la belle passion. Evan Dhu Maccombich is in
love with Donald's daughter, Alice, and you cannot expect me
to disturb him in his amours. Why, the whole clan would cry
shame on me. You know it is one of their wise sayings that a
kinsman is part of a man's body, but a foster-brother is a piece
of his heart."

" Well, Fergus, there is no disputing with you ; but I would
all this may end well."

"Devoutly prayed, my dear and prophetic sister, and the
best way in the world to close a dubious argument. — But hear
ye not the pipes, Captain Waverleyl Perhaps you will like
better to dance to them in the hall, than to be deafened with
their harmony without taking part in the exercise they invite
us to."

Waverley took Flora's hand. The dance, song, and meriy-
making proceeded, and closed the day's entertainment at the
castle of Vich Ian Vohr. Edward at length retired, his miiid
agitated by a variety of new and conflicting feelings, which
detained him from rest for some time, in that not unpleasing
state of mind in which fancy takes the helm, and the soul
rather drifts passively along with the rapid and confused tide of
reflections, than exerts itself to encounter, systematise, or exa-
mine them. At a late hour he fell asleep, and dreamed of
Flora Mac-Ivor.

VOL. I. M

162

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTBL

A STAG-HUNT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.

Shall this be a long or a short chapter ? — This is a question
in which you, gentle reader, have no vote, however much you
may be interested in the consequences ; just as you may (like
myself) probably have nothing to do with the imposing a new
tax, excepting the trifling circumstance of being obliged to
pay it. More happy surely in the present case, since, though
it lies within my arbitrary power to extend my materials as I
think proper, I cannot call you into Exchequer if you do not
think proper to read my narrative. Let me therefore consider.
It is true that the annals and documents in my hands say but
little of this Highland chase; but then I can find copious
materials for description elsewhere. There is old Lindsay of
Pitscottie ready at my elbow, with his Athole hunting, and his
"lofted and joisted palace of green timber; with all kind of
drink to be had in burgh and land, as ale, beer, wine, muscadel,
malvaise, hippocras, and aquavitse ; with wheat-bread, main-
bread, ginge-bread, beef, mutton, lamb, veal, venison, goose,
grice, capon, coney, crane, swan, partridge, plover, duck, drake,
brissel-cock, pawnies, black-cock, muir-fowl, and capercailzies ;"
not forgetting the "costly bedding, vaiselle, and napry," and
least of all, the " excelling stewards, cunning baxters, excellent
cooks and pottingars, with confections and drugs for the desserts."
Besides the particulars which may be thence gleaned for this
Highland feast (the splendour of which induced the Pope's
legate to dissent from an opinion which he had hitherto held,
that Scotland, namely, was the — the — the latter end of the
world)— besides these, might I not illuminate my pages with
Taylor the Water Poet's hunting in the braes of Mar, where,

Through heather, mosse, 'mong frogs, and bogs, and fogs,
'Mongst craggy cliffs and thunder-battered hiUs,

Hares, hinds, bucks, roes, are chased by men and dogs,
Where two hours' hunting fourscore fat deer kills.

Lowland, your sports are low as is your seat ;

The Highland games and minds are high and great.

But without farther tjTanuy over my readers, or display of"
the extent of my own reading, I shall content myself with

WAVERLEY. 163

borrowing a single incident from the memorable hunting at
Lude, commemorated in the ingenious Mr. Gunn's Essay on
the Caledonian Harp, and so proceed in my story with all the
brevity that my natural style of composition, partaking of what
scholars call the periphrastic and ambagitory, and the vulgar
the circumbendibus, will permit me.

The solemn hunting was delayed, from various causes, for
about three weeks. The interval was spent by Waverley with
great satisfaction at Glennaquoich ; for the impression which
Flora had made on his mind at their first meeting grew daily
stronger. She was prp.niRft1jJ,]ifi^fl,^^.p.t,pr tn fn,sp.iTifl.t,p. n. yniith
of romantic imagination. Her maimers, her language, her
talents for poetry and music, gave additional and varied influ-
ence to her eminent personal charms. Even in her hours of
gaiety she was in his fancy exalted above the ordinary daughters
of Eve, and seemed only to stoop for an instant to those topics
of amusement and gallantry which others appear to live for.
In the neighbourhood of this enchantress, while sport consumed
the morning, and music and the dance led on the hours of even-
ing, Waverley became daily more delighted with his hospitable
landlord, and more enamoured of his bewitching sister.

At length the period fixed for the grand hunting arrived, and
Waverley and the Chieftain departed for the place of rendezvous,
which was a day's journey to the northward of Glennaquoich
Fergus was attended on this occasion by about three hundred
of his clan, well armed, and accoutred in their best fashion.
Waverley complied so far with the custom of the country as to
adopt the trews (he could not be reconciled to the kilt), brogues,
and bonnet, as the fittest dress for the exercise in which he was
to be engaged, and which least exposed him to be stared at as a
stranger when they should reach the place of rendezvous.
They found on the spot appointed several powerful Chiefs, to
all of whom Waverley was formally presented, and by all cor-
dially received. Their vassals and clansmen, a part of whose
feudal duty it was to attend on these parties, appeared in such
numbers as amounted to a small army. These active assistants
spread through the country far and near, forming a circle, tech-
nically called the tinchel, which, gradually closing, drove the
deer in herds together towards the glen where the Chiefs and
principal sportsmen lay in wait for them. In the meanwhile,
these distinguished personages bivouacked among the flowery

164 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

heath, wrapped up in their plaids ; a mode of passing a summer's
night which Waverley found by no means unpleasant.

For many hours after sunrise, the mountain ridges and
passes retained their ordinary appearance of silence and soli-
tude ; and the Chiefs, with their followers, amused themselves
with various pastimes, in which the joys of the shell, as Ossian
has it, were not forgotten. " Others apart sate on a hill
retired;" probably as deeply engaged in the discussion of
politics and news, as Milton's spirits in metaphysical disquisi-
tion. At length signals of the approach of the game were
descried and heard. Distant shouts resounded from valley to
valley, as the various parties of Highlanders, climbing rocks,
struggling through copses, wading brooks, and traversing
thickets, approached more and more near to each other, and
compelled the astonished deer, with the other wild animals that
fled before them, into a narrower circuit. Every now and then
the report of muskets was heard, repeated by a thousand echoes.
The baying of the dogs was soon added to the chorus, which
grew ever louder and more loud. At length the advanced
parties of the deer began to show themselves; and as the
stragglers came bounding down the pass by two or three at a
time, the Chiefs showed their skill by distinguishing the fattest
deer, and their dexterity in bringing them down with their
guns. Fergus exhibited remarkable address, and Edward was
also so fortunate as to attract the notice and applause of the
sportsmen.

But now the main body of the deer appeared at the head of
the glen, compelled into a very narrow compass, and presenting
such a formidable phalanx, that their antlers appeared at a
distance, over the ridge of the steep pass, like a leafless grove.
Their number was very great, and from a desperate stand which
they made, with the tallest of the red-deer stags arranged in
front, in a sort of battle array, gazing on the group which
barred their passage down the glen, the more experienced
sportsmen began to augur danger. The work of destruction,
however, now commenced on all sides. Dogs and hunters were
at work, and muskets and fusees resounded from every quarter.
The deer, driven to desperation, made at length a fearful charge
right upon the spot where the more distinguished sportsmen
had taken their stand. The word was given in Gaelic to fling
themselves upon their faces ; but Waverley, on whose English

WAVERLEY. 1Q5

ears the sigual was lost, had almost fallen a sacrifice to his
ignorance of the ancient language in which it was communi-
cated. Fergus, observing his danger, sprung up and pulled him
with violence to the ground, just as the whole herd broke down
upon them. The tide being absolutely irresistible, and wounds
from a stag's horn highly dangerous,* the activity of the Chief-
tain may be considered, on this occasion, as having saved his
guest's life. He detained him with a firm grasp until the whole
herd of deer had fairly run over them. Waverley then attempted
to rise, but found that he had suffered several very severe con-
tusions ; and, upon a further examination, discovered that he
had sprained his ankle violently.

This checked the mirth of the meeting, although the High-
landers, accustomed to such incidents, and prepared for them,
had suffered no harm themselves. A wigwam was erected
almost in an instant, where Edward was deposited on a couch
of heather. The surgeon, or he who assumed the office, appeared
to unite the characters of a leech and a conjuror. He was an
old smoke-dried Highlander, wearing a venerable grey beard,
and having for his sole garment a tartan frock, the skirts of
which descended to the knee; and, being undivided in front,
made the vestment serve at once for doublet and breeches, t
He observed great ceremony in approaching Edward ; and
though our hero was writhing with pain, would not proceed to
any operation which might assuage it until he had perambu-
lated his couch three times, moving from east to west, according
to the course of the sun. This, which was called making the
deasil,1^ both the leech and the assistants seemed to consider as
a matter of the last importance to the accomplishment of a
cure ; and Waverley, whom pain rendered incapable of expos-
tulation, and who indeed saw no chance of its being attended
to, submitted in silence.

* The thrust from the tynes, or branches, of the stag's horns, was ac-
counted far more dangerous than those of the boar's tusk : —
If thou be hurt with horn of stag, it brings thee to thy bier,
But barber's hand shall boar's hurt heal ; thereof have thou no fear.

+ This garb, which resembled the dress often put on children in Scotland,
called a polonie {i.e. polonaise), is a very ancient modification of the High-
land garb. It was, in fact, the hauberk or shirt of mail, only composed of
cloth instead of rings of armour.

+ Old Highlanders will still make the deasil around those whom thej-
wish well to. To go round a person in the opposite direction, or wither-
nhins {German toider-shins), is unlucky, and a sort of incantation.

166

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

After this ceremony was duly performed, the old Esculapius
let his patient blood with a cupping-glass with great dexterity,
and proceeded, muttering all the while to himself in Gaelic, to
boil on the fire certain herbs, with which he compounded an
embrocation. He then fomented the parts which had sustained
injury, never failing to murmur prayers or spells, which of the
two Waverley could not distinguish, as his ear only caught the
words Gasper-Melchior-Balthazar-max-prax-fax, and similar gib-
berish. The fomentation had a speedy effect in alleviating the
pain and swelling, which our hero imputed to the virtue of
the herbs, or the effect of the chaffing, but which was by the
bystanders unanimously ascribed to the spells with which the
operation had been accompanied. Edward was given to under-
stand, that not one of the ingredients had been gathered except
during the full moon, and that the herbalist had, while col-
lecting them, uniformly recited a charm, which in English
ran thus : —

Hail to thee, thou holy herb,
That sprung on holy ground !
All in the Mount Olivet
First wert thou found :
Thou art boot for many a bruise,
And healest many a wound ;
In our Lady's blessed name,
I take thee from the ground. *

Edward observed, with some surprise, that even Fergus
notwithstanding his knowledge and education, seemed to fall in
with the fiuperstitioii3 ideas of his countrymen, either because he
deemed it impolitic to affect scepticism on a matter of general
belief, or more probably because, like most men who do not
think deeply or accurately on such subjects, he had in his mind
a reserve of superstition which balanced the freedom of his
expressions and practice upon other occasions. Waverley made
no commentary, therefore, on the manner of the treatment, but
rewarded the professor of medicine with a liberality beyond the
utmost conception of his wildest hopes. He uttered, on the
occasion, so many incoherent blessings in Gaelic and English,
that Mac-Ivor, rather scandalized at the excess of his acknow-
ledgments, cut them short by exclaiming, " Geud mile mhalloich

* This metrical spell, or something ven' Hke it, is preserved by Reginald
Scott, in his work on Witchcraft.

WAVERLEY. 167

ort!" i.e., "A hundred thousand curses on youl" and so pushed
the helper of men out of the cabin.

After Waverley was left alone, the exhaustion of pain and
fatigue — for the whole day's exercise had been severe — tlirew
him into a profound, but yet a feverish sleep, which he chiefly
owed to an opiate draught administered by the old Highlander
from some decoction of herbs in his pharmacopoeia.

Early the next morning, the purpose of their meeting being
over, and their sports damped by the untoward accident, in which
Fergus and all his friends expressed the greatest sympathy,
it became a question how to dispose of the disabled sportsman.
This was settled by Mac-Ivor, who had a litter prepared, of
" birch aud hazel-grey," * which was borne by his people with
such caution and dexterity as renders it not improbable that
they may have been the ancestors of some of those sturdy Gael,
who have now the happiness to transport the belles of Edin-
burgh, in their sedan-chairs, to ten routs in one evening. When
Edward was elevated upon their shoulders, he could not help
being gratified with the romantic effect produced by the break-
ing up of this sylvan camp.t

The various tribes assembled, each at the pibroch of their
native clan, and each headed by their patriarchal ruler. Some,
who had already begim to retire, were seen winding up the hills,
or descending the passes which led to the scene of action, the
sound of their bagpipes dying upon the ear. Others made still
a moving picture upon the narrow plain, forming various
changeful groups, their feathers and loose plaids waving in the
morning breeze, and their arms glittering in the rising sim.
Most of the Chiefs came to take farewell of Waverley, and to
express their anxious hope they might again,- and speedily,
meet ; but the care of Fergus abridged the ceremony of taking
leave. At length, his own men being completely assembled

* On the morrow they made their biers,
Of bircli and hazel grey. — Chevy Chase.

t The Author has been sometimes accused of confounding fiction with
reality. He therefore thinks it necessary to state, that the circumstances
of the hunting described in the text as preparatory to the insuiTection of
1745, is, so far as he knows, entirely imaginary. But it is well known
such a great hunting was held in the Forest of Braeraar, under the auspices
of the Earl of Mar, as preparatory to the Rebellion of 1715 ; and most of
the Highland Chieftains who afterwards engaged in that civil commotion
v.'ore present on this occasion.

1«B WAVERLEY NOVELS.

and mustered, Mac-Ivor commeuced his march, but not towarde
the quarter from which they had come. He gave Edward to
understand, that the greater part of his followers, now on the
field, were bound on a distant expedition, and that when he had
deposited him in the house of a gentleman, who he was sure
would pay him eveiy attention, he himself should be under the
necessity of accompanying them the greater part of the way,
but would lose no time in rejoining his friend.

Waverley was rather surprised that Fergus had not mentioned
this ulterior destination when they set out upon the hunting-
party ; but his situation did not admit of many interrogatories.
The greater part of the clansmen went forward under the
guidance of old Ballenkeiroch, and Evan Dhu Maccombich, ap-
parently in high spirits. A few remained for the purpose of
escorting the Chieftain, who walked by the side of Edward's
litter, and attended him with the most affectionate assiduity.
About noon, after a journey which the nature of the conveyance,
the pain of his bruises, and the roughness of the way, rendered
inexpressibly painful, Waverley was hospitably received into the
house of a gentleman related to Fergus, who had prepared for
him every accommodation which the simple habits of living, then
universal in the Highlands, put in his power. In this person,
an old man about seventy, Edward admired a relic of primitive
simplicity. He wore no dress but what his estate afforded.
The cloth was the fleece of his own sheep, woven by his own
servants, and stained into tartan by the dyes produced from the
herbs and lichens of the hills around him. His linen was spun
by his daughters and maid-servants, from his own flax, nor did
his table, though plentifid, and varied with game and fish, offer
an article but what was of native produce.

Claiming himself no rights of clanship or vassalage, he was
fortunate in the alliance and protection of Vich I' ,n Vohr, and
other bold and enterprising Chieftains, who protected him in the
quiet unambitious life he loved. It is true, the youth bom on
his grounds were often enticed to leave him for the service of
his more active friends ; but a few old servants and tenants
used to shake their grey locks when they heard their master
censured for want of spirit, and observed, " When the wind is
still, the shower falls soft." This good old man, whose charity
and hospitality were unbounded, would have received Waverley
with kindness, had he been the meanest Saxon peasant, sincp

WAVERLEY. 1 69

his situation required assistance. But his attention to a friend
and guest of Vich Ian Vohr was anxious and unremitted.
Other embrocations were applied to the injured limb, and new
spells were put in practice. At length, after more solicitude
than was perhaps for the advantage of his health, Fergus took
farewell of Edward for a few days, when, he said, he would
return to Tomanrait, and hoped by that time Waverley would
be able to ride one of the Highland ponies of his landlord, and
in that manner return to Glennaquoich.

The next day, when his good old host appeared, Edward
learned that his friend had departed with the dawn, leaving
none of his followers except Galium Beg, the sort of foot-page who
used to attend his person, and who had it now in charge to wait
upon Waverley. On asking his host, if he knew where the
Chieftain was gone, the old man looked fixedly at him, with
something mysterious and sad in the smile which was his only
reply. Waverley repeated his question, to which his host
answered in a proverb, —

What sent the messengers to hell,
Was asking what they knew full well. *

He was about to proceed, but Galium Beg said rather pertly, as
Edward thought, that "Ta Tigheamach {i.e., the Chief) did
not like ta Sassenagh Duinhe-wassel to be pingled wi' mickle
speaking, as she was na tat weel." From this Waverley con-
cluded he should disoblige his friend by inquiring of a stranger
the object of a journey which he himself had not communicated.
It is unnecessary to trace the progress of our hero's recovery.
The sixth morning had arrived, and he was able to walk about
with a staff, when Fergus returned with about a score of his
men. He seemed in the highest spirits, congratulated Waverley
on his progress towards recovery, and finding he was able to
sit on horseback, proposed their immediate return to Glenna-
quoich. Waverley joyfully acceded, for the form of his fair
mistress had lived in his dreams during all the time of his
confinement.

Now he has ridden o'er moor and moss,
O'er hill and many a glen,

Fergus, all the while, with his myrmidons, striding stoutly by

* Corresponding to the Jjowland saying, " Mony aue spoirs the gate they
ken £u' weeL"

170

WAVERLEY NOVELS

his side, or diverging to get a shot at a roe or a heathcock
Waverley's bosom beat thick when they approached the old
tower of Ian nan Chaistel, and could distinguish the fair form
of its mistress advancing to meet them.

Fergus began immediately, with his usual high spirits, to
exclaim, "Open your gates, incomparable princess, to the wounded
Moor Abindarez, whom Rodrigo de Narvez, constable of Anti-
quera, conveys to your castle; or open them, if you like it
better, to the renowned Marquis of Mantua, the sad attendant
of his half-slain friend,. ^Bal^p vinos of the Mountain. — Ah, long
rest to thy soul, Cervantes !,) without quoting thy remnants, how
should I frame my language to befit romantic ears !"*

Flora now advanced, and welcoming Waverley with much
kindness, expressed her regret for his accident, of which she had
already heard the particulars, and her surprise that her brother
should not have taken better care to put a stranger on his guard
against the perils of the sport in which he engaged him.
Edward easily exculpated the Chieftain, who, indeed, at his own
personal risk, had probably saved his life.

This greeting over, Fergus said three or four words to his
sister in Gaelic. The tears instantly spnmg to her eyes, but
they seemed to be tears of devotion and joy, for she looked up
to Heaven, and folded her hands as in a solemn expressiea^f
prayer or gratitude. After the pause of a minute, she presented
to Edward some letters which had been forwarded from Tully-
Veolan during his absence, and, at the same time, delivered
some to her brother. To the latter she likewise gave three or
four numbers of the Caledonian Mercury, the only newspaper
which was then published to the north of the Tweed.

Both gentlemen retired to examine their despatches, and
Edward speedily found that those which he had received con-
tained matters of very deep interest.

* See Don Quixota

WAVERLEY. 171

OHAPTER TWENTY-FIFTH.

NEWS FROM ENGLAND.

The letters which Waverley had hitherto received from hia
relations in England, were not such as required any particular
notice in this narrative. His father usually wrote to him with
the pompous affectation ©f one who was too much oppressed by
public affairs to find leisure to attend to those of his own family.
Now and then he mentioned persons of rank in Scotland to
whom he wished his son should pay some attention ; but
Waverley, hitherto occupied by the amusements which he had
found at Tully-Veolan and Glennaquoich, dispensed with paying
any attention to hists so coldly thrown out, especially as dis-
tance, shortness of leave of absence, and so forth, furnished
a ready apology. But latterly the burden of Mr. Richard
Waverley's paternal epistles consisted in certain mysterious
hints of greatness and influence which he was speedily to attain,
and which would ensure his son's obtaining the most rapid pro-
motion, should he remain in the military service. Sir Everard's
letters were of a different tenor. They were short ; for the good
P^JTcnet was none of your illimitable correspondents, whose
manuscript overflows the folds of their large post paper, and
leaves no room for the seal ; but they were kind and affectionate,
and seldom concluded without some allusion to our hero's stud,
some question about the state of his purse, and a special inquiry
after such of his recruits as had preceded him from Waverley-
Honour. Aunt Rachel charged him to remember his principles
of religion, to take care of his health, to beware of Scotch mists,
which, she had heard, would wet an Englishman through and
through ; never to go out at night without his great-coat ; and,
above all, to wear flannel next to his skin.

Mr. Pembroke only wrote to our hero one letter, but it was
of the bulk of six epistles of these degenerate days, containing,
in the moderate compass of ten folio pages, closely written, a
precis of a supplementary quarto manuscript of addenda,
delenda, et corrigenda, in reference to the two tracts with which
he had presented Waverley. This he considered as a mere sop
in the pan to stay the appetite of Edward's curiosity, until he
should find an opportunity of sending down the volume itself,

172 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

which was much too heavy for the post, and which he proposed
to accompany with certain interesting pamphlets, lately pub-
lished by his friend in Little Britain, with whom he had kept
up a sort of literary correspondence, in virtue of which the
library shelves of Waverley-Honour were loaded with much
trash, and a good round bill, seldom summed in fewer than
three figures, was yearly transmitted, in which Sir Everard
Waverley, of Waverley-Honour, Bart, was marked Dr. to
Jonathan Grubbet, bookseller and stationer. Little Britain.
Such had hitherto been the style of the letters which Edward
had received from England ; but the packet delivered to him at
Glennaquoich was of a different and more interesting complexion.
It would be impossible for the reader, even were I to insert the
letters at full length, to comprehend the real cause of their
being written, without a glance into the interior of the British
Cabinet at the period in question.

The Ministers of the day happened (no very singular event)
to be divided into two parties ; the weakest of which, making
up by assiduity of intrigue their inferiority in real consequence,
had of late acquired some new proselytes, and with them the
hope of superseding their rivals in the favour of their sovereign,
and overpowering them in the House of Commons. Amongst
otherSjVthey had thought it worth while to practise upon^ichard
WaverleyT) This honest gentleman, by a grave mysterious de-
meanourf^n attention to the etiquette of business, rather more
than to its essence, a facility in making long dull speeches,
consisting of truisms and common-places, hashed up with a
technical jargon of ofl&ce, which prevented the inanity of his
orations from being discovered, had acquired a certain name
and credit in public life, and even established, with many, the
character of a profound politician ; none of your shining orators,
indeed, whose talents evaporate in tropes of rhetoric and flashes
of wit, but one possessed of steady parts for business, which
would weai well, as the ladies say in choosing their silks, and
ought in all reason to be good for common and every-day use,
since they were confessedly formed of no holiday texture.

This faith had become so general, that the insurgent party
in the Cabinet of which we have made mention, after sounding
Mr. Richard Waverley, were so satisfied with his sentiments
and abilities, as to propose, that, in case of a certain revolution
In the ministry, he should take an ostensible place in the new

WAVERLEY. 173

order of things, not indeed of the very first rank, but greatly
higher, in point both of emohiment and influence, tlian that
which he now enjoyed. There was no resisting so tempting a
proposal, notwithstanding that the Great Man, under whose
patronage he had enlisted, and by whose banner he had hitherto
stood firm, was the principal object of the proposed attack by
the new allies. Unfortunately this fair scheme of ambition
was blighted in the very bud, by a premature movement. All
the official gentlemen concerned in it, who hesitated to take
the part of a voluntary resignation, were informed that the
king had no further occasion for their services ; and, in Richard
Wa"verley's case, which the Minister considered as aggravated

by ingratitude, dismissal was accompanied by something liktf^ kW'5

personal contempt and contumely. The public, and even the \o\]

party of whom he shared the fall, sympathized little in the ^

disappointment of this selfish and interested statesman ; and
he retired to the country under the comfortable reflection, that
he had lost, at the same time, character, credit, and, — what he
at least equally deplored, — emolument.

Richard Waverley's letter to his son upon this occasion was
a masterpiece of its kind. Aristides himself could not have
made out a harder case. An unjust monarch, and an ungrateful
country, were the burden of each rounded paragraph. He spoke
of long services, and unrequited sacrifices ; though the former
had been overpaid by his salary, and nobody could guess in
what the latter consisted, unless it were in his deserting, not
from conviction, but for the lucre of gain, the Tory principles
of his family. In the conclusion, his resentment was wrought
to such an excess by the force of his own oratory, that he could
not repress some threats of vengeance, however vague and im-
potent, and finally acquainted his son with his pleasure that he
should testify his sense of the ill-treatment he had sustained,
by throwing up his commission as soon as the letter reached
him. This, he said, was also his uncle's desire, as he would
himself intimate in due course.

Accordingly, the next letter which Edward opened was from
Sir Everard. His brother's disgrace seemed to have removed
from his well-natured bosom all recollection of their differences,
and, remote as he was from every means of learning that
Richard's disgrace was in reality only the just, as well as
natural consequence, of his own unsuccessful intrigues, the good,

^r>^^ 174 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

5,^*^ but credulous Baronet, at once set it down as a new and enor

^' mous instance of the injustice of~nie^xisting Government, ^t

was true, he said, and he must not disguise it even from Edward,
that his father could not have sustained such an insult as was
now, for the first time, offered to one of his house, unless he
had subjected himself to it by accepting of an employment
under the present system.. Sir Everard had no doubt that he
now both saw and felt the magnitude of this error, and it
should be his (Sir Everard's) business, to take care that the
cause of his regret should not extend itself to pecuniary conse-
quences. It was enough for a Waverley to have sustained the
public disgrace ; the patrimonial injury could easily be obviated
by the head of their family. But it was both the opinion of
Mr. Richard Waverley and his own, that Edward, the repre-
sentative of the family of Waverley-IIonoiu*, should not remain
in a situation which subjected him also to such treatment as
that with which his father had been stigmatized. He requested
his nephew therefore to take the fittest, and, at the same time,
the most speedy opportunity, of transmitting his resignation to
the War-Office, and hinted, moreover, that little ceremony was
necessary where so little had been used to his father. He sent
multitudinous greetings to the Baron of Bradwardine.

A letter from Aunt Rachel spoke out even more plainly. She
considered the disgrace of brother Richard as the just reward of
his forfeiting his allegiance to a lawful, though exiled sovereign,
and taking the oaths to an alien ; a concession which her grand-
father. Sir Nigel Waverley, refused to make, either to the
Roundliead Parliament or to Cromwell, when his life and
fortune stood in the utmost extremity. She hoped her dear
Edward would follow the footsteps of his ancestors, and as
speedily as possible get rid of the badge of servitude to the
usiuping family, and regard the wrongs sustained by his father
as an admonition from Heaven, that every desertion of the line
of loyalty becomes its own punishment. She also concluded
with her respects to Mr. Bradwardine, and begged Waverley
would inform her whether his daughter. Miss Rose, was old
enough to wear a pair of very handsome ear-rings, which she
proposed to send as a token of her affection. The good lady
also desired to be informed whether Mr. Bradwardine took as
much Scotch snuff, and danced as unweariedly, as lie did when
he was at Waverley-Honour about thirty years ago.

WAVEELEY.

1/5

These letters, as might have been expected, highly excited
Waverley's indignation. From the desultory style of his studies,
he had not any fixed political opinion to place in opposition to ..^fc*
'HEe movements of indignation which he felt at his father's
supposed wrongs. Of the real cause of his disgrace, Edward
was totally ignorant; nor had his habits at all led him to
investigate the politics of the period in which he lived, or
remark the intrigues in which his father had been so actively
engaged. Indeed, any impressions which he had accidentally \
adopted concerning the parties of the times, were (owing to the
society in which he had lived at Waverley-Honour) of a nature
rather unfavourable to the existing government and dynasty.
He entered, therefore, without hesitation, into the resentful
feeling of the relations who had the best title to dictate his
conduct ; and not perhaps the less willingly, when he remem-
bered the tedium of his quarters, and the inferior figure which
he had made among the oflBcers of his regiment. If he could
have had any doubt upon the subject, it would have been
decided by the following letter from his commanding-officer,
which, as it is very short, shall be inserted verbatim : —

" SlE,

" Having carried somewhat beyond the line of my duty, an
indulgence which even the lights of nature, and much more
those of Christianity, direct towards errors which may arise
from youth and inexperience, and that altogether without eff'ect,
I am reluctantly compelled, at the present crisis, to use the only
remaining remedy which is in my power. You are, therefore,

hereby commanded to repair to , the headquarters of the

regiment, within three days after the date of this letter. If
you shall fail to do so, I must report you to the War-Office as
absent without leave, and also take other steps, which will be
disagreeable to you, as well as to, Sir,
" Your obedient Servant,

"J. Gardiner, Lieut. -Col.
" Commanding the Regt. Dragoons."

Edward's blood boiled within him as he read this letter. He
had been accustomed from his very infancy to possess, in a
great measure, the disposal of his own time, and thus acquired
Imbits which rendered the rules of military discipline as un-
pleasing to him in this as they were in some other respects.

176

WAVERLEY NOVET.R.

.o>.M"

Aji idea that iii liis own case they would not be enforced in a
very rigid manner had also obtained full possession of his mind,
and had hitherto been sanctioned by the indulgent conduct of
his lieutenant-colonel. Neither had anything occurred, to his
knowledge, that should have induced his commanding-officer,
without any other warning than the hints we noticed at the end
of the fourteenth chapter, so suddenly to assume a harsh, and,
*5i5^^ as Edward deemed it, so insolent a tone of dictatorial authority.
^ \^c^^i^ Connecting it with theletters he had just received from his
!^^ ^ family, he could not but suppose that it was designed to make
him feel, in his present situation, the same pressure of authority
which had been exercised in his father's case, and that the
whole was a concerted scheme to depress and degrade every
member of the Waverley family.

Without a pause, therefore, Edward wrote a few cold linos,
thanking his lieutenant-colonel for past civilities, and expressing
regret that he should have chosen to efface the remembrance of
them, by assuming a different tone towards him. The strain of
his letter, as well as what he (Edward) conceived to be his
duty, in the present crisis, called upon him to lay down his
commission ; and he therefore enclosed the Jbrmal resignation
of a situation which subjected him to so unpleasant aTcorre-
spondence, and requested Colonel Gardiner would have the
goodness to forward it to the proper authorities.

Having finished this magnanimous epistle, he felt somewhat
uncertain concerning the terms in which his resignation ought
to be expressed, upon which subject he resolved to consult Fergus
Mac-Ivor. It may be observed in passing, that the bold and
prompt habits of thinking, acting, and speaking, which distin-
guished this youn^ OMeEain, had given him a considerable
ascendency over the mind of Waverley. Endowed with at least
equal powers of understanding, and with much finer genius,
Edward yet stooped to the bold and decisive activity of an
intellect which was sharpened by the habit of acting on a
preconceived and regular system, as well as by extensive know-
ledge of the world.

When Edward found his friend, the latter had still in his
hand the newspaper which he had perused, and advanced to
meet him with the embarrassment of one who has unpleasing
news to communicate. "Do your letters, Captain Waverley,
(X»nfirm the unpleasing information which I find in this paper?"

\V

?K

WAVERT/RY. 177

He put the paper into his hand, where his father's disgrace
was registered in the most bitter terais, transferred probably
from some London journal. At the end of the paragraph was
this remarkable innuendo ; —

" We understand that * this same Richard, who hath done all
this/ is not the only example of the Wavering Honour of
W-v-rl-y H-n-r. See the Gazette of this day."

With hurried and feverish apprehension our hero turned to
the place referred to, and found therein recorded, " Edward

Waverley, captain in regiment dragoons, superseded for

absence without leave ;" and in the list of military promotions,
referring to the same regiment, he discovered this farther article,
" Lieut. Julius Butler, to be captain, vice Edward Waverley,
superseded."

Our hero's bosom glowed vnih. the resentment w^hich unde-
served and apparently premeditated insult was calculated to
excite in the bosom of one who had aspired after honour, and
was thus wantonly held up to public scorn and disgrace. Upon
comparing the date of his colonel's letter with that of the article
in the Gazette, he perceived that his threat of making a report
upon his absence had been literally fulfilled, and without
inquiry, as it seemed, whether Edward had either received
his summons, or was disposed to comply with it. The whole,
therefore, appeared a formed plan to degrade him in the eyes
of the public ; and the idea of its ha\dng succeeded filled him
with such bitter emotions, that, after various attempts to con-
ceal them, he at length threw himself into Mac-Ivor's arms, and
gave vent to tears of shame and indignation.

It was none of this Chieftain's faults to be indifferent to the
wrongs of his friends ; and for Edward, independent of certain
plans with which he was connected, he felt a deep and sincere
interest. The proceeding appeared as extraordinary to him as
it had done to Edward. He indeed knew of more motives than
Waverley was privy to, for the peremptory order that he should
join his regiment. But that, without further inquiry into the
circumstances of a necessary delay, the commanding oflScer, in
contradiction to his known and established character, should
have proceeded in so harsh and unusual a manner, was a mysteiy
which he could not penetrate. He soothed our hero, however,
to the best of his power, and began to turn his thoughts on
revenge for his insulted honour.

VOL. I. ^ N

178 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Edward eagerly grasped at the idea. "Will you carry a
message for me to Colonel Gardiner, my dear Fergus, and oblige
me for ever'?"

Fergus paused. " It is an act of friendship which you should
command, could it be usefid, or lead to the righting your honour ;
but in the present case, I doubt if your commanding-officer
would give you the meeting on account of his having taken
measures, which, however harsh and exasperating, were still
within the strict bounds of his duty. Besides, Gardiner is a
precise Huguenot, and has adopted certain ideas about the
sinfulness of such rencontres, from which it would be impossible
to make him depart, especially as his courage is beyond all
suspicion. And besides, I — I — to say the truth — I dare not
at this moment, for some very weighty reasons, go near any
of the military quarters or garrisons belonging to this govern-
ment."

" And am I," said Waverley, " to sit down quiet and con-
tented under the injury I have received?"

"That will I never advise, my friend," replied Mac-Ivor.
" But I would have vengeance to fall on the head, not on the
hand; on the tyrannical and oppressive Government which
designed and directed these premeditated and reiterated insults,
not on the tools of office which they employed in the execution
of the injuries they aimed at you."

" On the Government !" said Waverley.

" Yes," replied the impetuous Highlander, " on the usurping
House of Hanover, whom your grandfather would no more have
served than he would have taken wages of red-hot gold from
the great j&end of hell !"

" But since the time of my grandfather two generations of
this dynasty have possessed the throne," said Edward coolly.

" True," replied the Chieftain ; " and because we have pas-
^ , sively given them so long the means of showing their native

At>Hp" „_, character — because both you and I myself have lived in quiet
^ fy^"^ _ submission, have even truckled to the times so far as to accept
cx)mmissions imder them, and thus have given them an oppor-
tunity of disgracing us publicly by resuming them — are we not
on that account to resent injuries which our fathers only appre-
hended, but which we have actually sustained 1 Or is the cause
of the unfortimate Stuart family become less just because their
title has devolved upon an heir who is innocent of the charges

WAVERLEY. 179

of misgovemracnt brought against his father? Do you remem-
ber the lines of your favoiu'ite poet ? —

Had Kichard unconstrained resigned the throne,
A king can give no more than is his own :
The title stood entailed had Eichard had a son.

You see, my dear Waverley, I can quote poetry as well as Flora
and you. But come, clear your moody brow, and trust to me
to show you an honoiu-able road to a speedy and glorious revenge.
Let us seek Flora, who perhaps has more news to tell us of
what has occurred during our absence. She will rejoice to hear
that you are relieved of your servitude. But fii-st add a post-
script to your letter, marking the time when you received this
calvinistical Colonel's first summons, and express your regret
that the hastiness of his proceedings prevented yom* anticipating
them by sending your resignation. Then let him blush for his
injustice."

The letter was sealed accordingly, covering a formal resigna-
tion of the commission, and Mac-Ivor despatched it with some
letters of his own by a special messenger, with charge to put
them into the nearest post-oflice in the Lowlands.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXTH.

AN ECLAIECISSEMENT.

TuE hint which the Chieftain had throwTi out respecting Flora
was not unpremeditated. He had observed with great satisfac-
tion the growing attachment of Waverley to his sister, nor did
he see any bar to their union, excepting the situation which
Waverley's father held in the miuistiy, and Edward's own com-
mission in the army of George II. These obstacles were now
removed, and m a manner which apparently paved the way for
the son's becoming reconciled to another allegiance. In every
other respect the match would be most eligible. The safety,
happiness, and honourable provision of his sister, whom he dearly
loved, appeared to be ensured by the proposed union ; and his
heart swelled when he considered how his own interest would
be exalted in the eyes of the ex-monarch to whom he had dedi-
cated his service, by iu\ alliance with one of those ancient

180 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

powerful, and wealthy English families of the steady euvalier'
faith, to awaken whose decayed attachment to the Stuart family
was now a matter of such vital importance to the Stuart cause.
Nor could Fergus perceive any obstacle to such a scheme.
Waverley's attachment was evident ; and as his person was
handsome, and his taste apparently coincided with her own, he
anticipated no opposition on the part of Flora. Indeed, between
his ideas of patriarchal power and those which he had acquired
in France respecting the disposal of females in marriage, any
opposition from his sister, dear as she was to him, would have
been the last obstacle on which he would have calculated, even
had the union been less eligible.

Influenced by these feelings, the Chief now led Waverley in
quest of Miss Mac-Ivor, not without the hope that the present
agitation of his guest's spirits might give him courage to cut
short what Fergus termed the romance of the courtship. They
foimd Flora, with her faithfid attendants, Una and Cathleen,
busied in preparing what appeared to "Waverley to be white
bridal favours. Disguising as well as he could the agitation of
his mind, Waverley asked for what joyful occasion Miss Mao-
Ivor made such ample preparation.

"It is for Fergus's bridal," she said smiling.

" Indeed !" said Edward; "he has kept his secret well. 1
hope he will allow me to be his bride's-man."

" That is a man's office, but not yours, as Beatrice says,"
retorted Flora.

" And who is the fair lady, may I be permitted to ask, Miss
Mac-Ivor?"

" Did not I tell you long since that Fergus wooed no bride
but Honour?" answered Flora.

" And am I then incapable of being his assistant and coun-
sellor in the pursuit of honoiu*?" said our hero, colouring deeply.
" Do I rank so low in your opinion V

" Far from it, Captain Waverley. I would to God you were
of our determination ! and made use of the expression which
displeased you, solely

Because you are not of our quality,
But stand against us as an enemy."

" That time is past, sister," said Fergus ; " and you may
wish Edward Waverley (no longer captain) joy of being freed

WAVEKLET. 181

from the slavery to an usurper, implied in that sable and ill-
omened emblem."

" Yes," said Waverley, undoing the cockade from his hat,
" it has pleased the king who bestowed this badge upon me to
resume it in a manner which leaves me little reason to regret
his service."

" Thank God for that !" cried the enthusiast ; — " and 0 that
they may be blind enough to treat every man of honour who
serves them with the same indignity, that I may have less to
sigh for when the struggle approaches ! "

" And now, sister," said the Chieftain, " replace his cockade
with one of a more lively colour. I think it was the fashion of
the ladies of yore to arm and send forth their knights to high
achievement."

" Not," replied the lady, "till the knight adventurer had well
weighed the justice and the danger of the cause, Fergus. Mr.
Waverley is just now too much agitated by feelings of recent
emotion, for me to press upon him a resolution of consequence."

Waverley felt half alarmed at the thought of adopting the
badge of what was by the majority of the kingdom esteemed
rebellion, yet he could not disguise his chagrin at the coldness
with which Flora parried her brother's hint. " Miss Mac-Ivor,
I perceive, thinks the knight unworthy of her encouragement
and favour," said he, somewhat bitterly.

" Not so, Mr. Waverley," she replied, ^vith great sweetness.
" Why should I refuse my brother's valued friend a boon which
I am distributing to his whole clan ? Most willingly would I
enlist every man of honour in the cause to which my brother
has devoted himself. But Fergus has taken his measures with
his eyes open. His life has been devoted to this cause from his
cradle ; with him its call is sacred, were it even a summons to
the tomb. But how can I wish you, Mr. Waverley, so new to
the world, so far from every friend who might advise and
ought to influence you — in a moment too of sudden pique and
indignation — how can I wish you to plunge yourself at once
into so desperate an enterprise ? "

Fergus, who did not understand these delicacies, strode
through the apartment biting his lip, and then, with a con-
strained smile, said, " Well, sister, I leave you to act your new
character of mediator between the Elector of Hanover and the
subjects of your lawful sovereign and benefactor," and left the
room.

182 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

There was a painful pause, which was at length broken by
Miss Mac-Ivor. " My brother is imjust," she said, " because he
can bear no interruption that seems to thwart his loyal zeal."

" And do you not share his ardour 1 " asked Waverley.

"Do I not?" answered Flora — "God knows mine exceeds
his, if that be possible. But I am not, like him, rapt by the
bustle of military preparation, and the infinite detail necessary
to the present undertaking, beyond consideration of the grand
principles of justice and truth, on which our enterprise is
grounded ; and these I am certain, can only be furthered by
measures in themselves true and just. To operate upon your
present feelings, my dear Mr. "Waverley, to induce you to an
irretrievable step, of which you have not considered either the
justice or the danger, is, in my poor judgment, neither the one
nor the other,"

" Incomparable Flora ! " said Edward, taking her hand,
" how much do I need such a monitor ? "

" A better one by far," said Flora, gently withdrawing her
har^ " Mr. Waverley will always find in his own bosom, wlien
Eewill give its small still voice leisure to be heard."

" No, Miss Mac-Ivor, I dare not hope it. A thousand cir-
cumstances of fatal self-indulgence have made me the creature
rather of imagination than reason. Durst I but hope — could T
but think — that you would deign to be to me that affectionate,
that condescending friend, who would strengthen me to redeem
my errors, my future life "

" Hush, my dear sir ! now you carry your joy at escaping the
hands of a Jacobite recruiting officer to an unparalleled excess
of gratitude."

"Nay, dear Flora, trifle with me no longer; you cannot
mistake the meaning of those feelings which I have almost
involuntarily expressed ; and since I have broken the barrier of
silence, let me profit by my audacity — Or may I, with your
permission, mention to your brother "

" Not for the world, Mr. Waverley ! "

" What am I to understand 1 " said Edward. " Is there any
fatal bar — has any prepossession "

" None, sir," answered Flora. " I owe it to myself to say,
that I never yet saw the person on whom I thought with refer-
ence to the present subject."

" The shortness of our acquaintance, perhaps — If Miss Mac
Ivor will deign to give me time "

I

WAVERLEY. 183

" I have not even that excuse. Captain Waverley's character
is so open — is, in short, of that nature, that it cannot he mis-
construed, either in its strength or its weakness."

" And for that weakness you despise me ?" said Edward.

" Forgive me, Mr. Waverley, and remember it is but within
this half hour that there existed between us a barrier of a ^\j\6'\ c^
nature to me insurmountable, since I never could think of an
officer in the service of the Elector of Hanover in any other ^O-^jo |/o\
light than as a casual acquaintance. Permit me then to
arrange my ideas upon so unexpected a topic, and in less than \,

an hour I will be ready to give you such reasons for the resolu-
tion I shall express, as may be satisfactory at least, if not
pleasing to you." So saying, Flora withdrew, leaving Waverley
to meditate upon the manner in which she had received his
addresses.

Ere he could make up his mind whether to believe his suit
had been acceptable or no, Fergus re-entered the apartment.
" What, d la mort, Waverley 1 " he cried. " Come down with
me to the court, and you shall see a sight worth all the tirades
of your romances. An himdred firelocks, my friend, and as
many broadswords, just arrived from good friends : and two or
three hundred stout fellows almost fighting which shall first
possess them, — But let me look at you closer — Why, a true
Highlander would say you had been blighted by an evil eye. —
Or can it be this silly girl that has thus blanked your spirit 1 —
Never mind her, dear Edward ; the wisest of her sex are fools
in what regards the business of life,"

" Indeed, my good friend," answered Waverley, " all that I /^J
can charge against your sister is,Jbhat she is too sensible, too
reasonable." ~

""Tf that be all, I ensure you for a louis-d'or against the
mood lasting four and- twenty hours. No woman was ever
steadily sensible for that period ; and I will engage, if that will
please you, Flora shall be as unreasonable to-morrow as any of
her sex. You must learn, my dear Edward, to consider women
en mousquetaire." So saying, he seized Waverley's arm, and
dragged him off to review his military preparations.

^ WAVERLEY NOVEIiS.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENTH.

UPON THE SAME SUBJECT.

Fergus Mac-Ivor had too mucli tact and delicacy to renew
the subject which he had interrupted. His head was, or ap-
peared to be, so full of guns, broadswords, bonnets, canteens,
and tartan hose, that Waverley coidd not for some time draw
his attention to any other topic.

" Are you to take the field so soon, Fergus," he asked, " that
you are making all these martial preparations?"

" When we have settled that you go with me, you shall know
all ; but otherwise, the knowledge might rather be prejudicial
to you."

" But are you serious in your purpose, with such inferior
forces, to rise against an established government ? It is mere
frenzy."

" Laissez faire d Don Antoine — I shall take good care of
myself. We shall at least use the compliment of Conan, who
never got a stroke but he gave one. I would not, however,"
continued the Chieftain, "have you think me mad enough
to stir till a favourable opportunity : I will not slip my dog
before the game's afoot. But once more, wiU you join with us
and you shall know all? "

" How can I ? " said Waverley ; " I who have so lately held
that commission which is now posting back to those that gave
it? My accepting it implied a promise of fidelity, and an
acknowledgment of the legality of the government."

" A rash promise," answered Fergus, " is not a steel handcuff;
it may be shaken off, especially when it was given under decep-
tion, and has been repaid by insult. But if you cannot imme-
diately make up your mind to a glorious revenge, go to England,
and ere you cross the Tweed, you will hear tidings that will
make the world ring; and if Sir Everard be the gallant old
cavalier I have heard him described by some of our honest
gentlemen of the year one thousand seven hundred and fifteen,
he will find you a better horse-troop and a better cause than you
have lost."

"But your sister, Fergus?"

" Out, hyperbolical fiend," replied the Chief, laughing ; " how

WAVERLEY. 185

vexest thou this man ! — Speakest thou of nothing but the
ladies?"

" Nay, be serious, my dear friend," said Waverley ; " I feel
that the happiness of my future life must depend upon the
answer wliich Miss Mac Ivor shall make to what I ventured to
tell her this morning."

"And is this your very sober earnest," said Fergus, more
gravely, " or are we in the land of romance and fiction V

"My earnest, undoubtedly. How could you suppose me
jesting on such a subject V

" Then, in very sober earnest," answered his friend, " I am
very glad to hear it ; and so highly do I think of Flora, that
you are the only man in England for whom I would say so
much. — But before you shake my hand so warmly, there is
more to be considered. — Your own family — will they approve
your connecting yourself with the sister of a high-bom High-
land beggar?"

" My uncle's situation," said Waverley, " his general opinions,
and his uniform indulgence, entitle me to say, that birth and
personal qualities are all he would look to in such a connexion.
And where can I find both united in such excellence as in your
sister?"

" 0 nowhere ! — cela va sans dire," replied Fergus with a
smile. " But your father will expect a father's prerogative in
being consulted."

" Surely ; but his late breach with the ruling powers removes
all apprehension of objection on his part, especially as I am
convinced that my uncle will be warm in my cause."

"Keligion, perhaps," said Fergus, "may make obstacles,
though we are not bigoted Catholics."

"My grandmother was of the Church of Rome, and her
religion was never objected to by my family. — Do not think of
my friends, dear Fergus ; let me rather have your influence
where it may be more necessary to remove obstacles — I mean
with your lovely sister."

" My lovely sister," replied Fergus, " like her loving brother,
is very apt to have a pretty decisive will of her own, by which,
in this case, you must be ruled ; but you shall not want my
interest nor my counsel. And, in the first place, I will give you
one hint — Loynlty is licr ruling passion ; and since she could
spell an English book, she has been in love with the memory of

186 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

the gallant Captain Wogan, who renounced the service of the
usurper Cromwell to join the standard of Charles II., marched
a handful of cavalry from London to the Highlands to join
Middleton, then in arms for the king, and at length died
gloriously in the royal cause. Ask her to show you some verses
she made on his history and fate ; they have been much admired,

I assure you. The next point is 1 think I saw Flora go up

towards the waterfall a short time since — follow, man, follow !
don't allow the garrison time to strengthen its purposes of
resistance — Alerte d la muraille ! Seek Flora out, and learn her
decision as soon as you can — and Cupid go with you, while I
go to look over belts and cartouch-boxes."

Waverley ascended the glen with an anxious and throbbing
heart. .Love, with all its romantic train of hopes, fears, and
wi§h.es, was mingled with otiier feelings of a nature less easily
defined. He could not but remember how much this morning
had changed his fate, and into what a complication of perplexity
it was likely to plunge him. Sunrise had seen him possessed
of an esteemed rank in the honourable profession of arms, his
father to all appearance rapidly rising in the favour of his
sovereign ; — all this had passed away like a dream — he himself
was dishonoured, his father disgraced, and he had become
involuntarily the confidant at least, if not the accomplice, of
plans dark, deep, and dangerous, which must iufer either sub-
version of the government he had so lately served, or the
destruction of all who had participated in them. Should Flora
even listen to his suit favourably, what prospect was there of
its being brought to a happy termination, amid the tumult of
an impending insurrection 1 Or how could he make the selfish
request that she should leave Fergus, to whom she was so much
attached, and, retiring with him to England, wait, as a distant
spectator, the success of her brother's imdertaking, or the ruin
of all his hopes and fortunes ! — Or, on the other hand, to engage
himself, with no other aid than his single arm, in the dangerous
and precipitate counsels of the Chieftain, — to be whirled along
by him, the partaker of all his desperate and impetuous motions,
— renouncing almost the power of judging, or deciding upon the
rectitude or prudence of his actions, — this was no pleasing
prospect for the secret pride of "Waverley to stoop to. And yet
what other conclusion remained, saving the rejection of his
addresses by Flora, an alternative not to be thought of in the

WAVERLEY. 187

present high-wrought state of his feelings, with anything short
of mental agony. Pondering the doubtful and dangerous pro-
spect before him, he at length arrived near the cascade, where,
as Fergus had augured, he found Flora seated.

She was quite alone ; and, as soon as she observed his ap-
proach, she arose, and came to meet him, Edward attempted
to say something within the verge of ordinary compliment and
conversation, but found himself unequal to the task. Flora
seemed at first equally embarrassed, but recovered herself more
speedily, and (an imfavourable augury for Waverley's suit) was
the first to enter upon the subject of their last interview. " It
is too important, in every point of view, Mr. Waverley, to
permit me to leave you in doubt on my sentiments."

" Do not speak them speedily," said Waverley, much agitated,
" unless they are such as, I fear from your manner, I must not
dare to anticipate. Let time — ^let my future conduct — let your
brother's influence"

" Forgive me, Mr. Waverley," said Flora, her complexion a
little heightened, but her voice firm and composed. " I should
incur my own heavy censure, did I delay expressing my sincere
conviction that I_jcaB_5eyer regard you otherwise than as a
valued friend.^ I should do you the highest injustice did I
conceal my sentiments for a moment. J see I distress you, and
I grieve for it, but better now than later; and 0, better a
thousand times, Mr. Waverley, that you should feel a present
momentary disappointment, than the long and heart-sickening
griefs which attend a rash and ill-assorted marriage ! "

"Good God!" exclaimed Waverley, "why should you anti-
cipate such consequences from a union where birth is equal,
where fortune is favourable, where, if I may venture to say so,
the tastes are similar, where you allege no preference for another,
where you even express a favourable opinion of him whom you
reject?"

" Mr. Waverley, I have that favourable opinion," answered
Flora ; " and so strongly, that though I would rather have been
silent on the grounds of my resolution, you shall command them,
if you exact such a mark of my esteem and confidence."

She sat dowm upon a fragment of rock, and Waverley,
placing himself near her, anxiously pressed for the explanation
she offered.

*' 1 dare hardly," she said, " tell you the situation of my

188 WAVTilRLEY NOVELS.

feelings, they are so different from those usually aacribed to

young women at my period of life ; and I dare hardly touch

upon what I conjecture to be the nature of yours, lest I should

give offence where I would willingly administer consolation.

^\3^ For myself, from my infancy till this day, I have had but one

^'^ ^ wish — the restoration of my royal benefactors to their rightful

^./^'^ ^ throne. It is impossible to express to you the devotion of my

^^v^^ feelings to this single subject ; and I will frankly confess, that it

^ has so occupied my mind as to exclude every thought respecting

what is called my own settlement in life. Let me but live to

see the day of that happy restoration, and a Highland cottage,

a French convent, or an English palace, will be alike indifferent

to me."

" But, dearest Flora, how is your enthusiastic zeal for the
exiled family inconsistent with my happiness V

" Because you seek, or ought to seek in the object of your
Y«r^— ^ attachment, a heart whose principal delight should be jn_aug,-
*" menting your domestic felicity, and returning yoiu* affection,

even to the height of romance. To a man of less keen sen-
sibility, and less enthusiastic tenderness of disposition, Flora
Mac-Ivor might give content, if not happiness ; for were the
irrevocable words spoken, never would she be deficient in the
duties which she vowed.'.'

" And why — why. Miss Mac-Ivor, should you think yourself
a more valuable treasure to one who is less capable of loving, of
admiring you, than to me?"

" Simply because the tone of our affections woidd be more in
unison, and because his more blunted sensibility would not re-
quire the return of enthusiasm which I have not to bestow.
But you, Mr. Waverley, would for ever refer to the idea of
domestic happiness which your imagination is capable of paint-
ing, and whatever fell short of that ideal representation would
be construed into coolness and indifference, while you might con-
sider the enthusiasm with which I regarded the success of the
royal family as defrauding your affection of its due return."

"In other words. Miss Mac-Ivor, you cannot love me?" said
her suitor dejectedly.

" I could esteem you, Mr. Waverley, as much, perhaps more,
than any man I have ever seen ; but I cannot love you as you
ought to be loved. 0 ! do not, for your own sake, desire so
hazardous an experiment ! The woman whom you many ougl\t

WAYERLEY. y) \ 189

^'

^ liAXj§-?ii!bctlgns_.mdJ4}iiiions moulded upon yours. Her studies
ought to be your studies ; — her wishes, her feelings, her hopes,
her fears, should all mingle with yours. She should enhance
your pleasures, share your sorrows, and cheer your melancholy."

" And why will not you. Miss Mac-Ivor, who can so well de-
scribe a happy union — why will not you be yourself the person
you describe?"

"Is it possible you do not yet comprehend me?" answered
Flora. " Have I not told you that every keener sensation of
my mind is bent exclusively towards an event, upon which,
indeed, I have no power but those of my earnest prayers V

" And might not the granting the suit I solicit," said Waver-
ley, too earnest on his purpose to consider what he was about
to say, " even advance the interest to which you have devoted
yourself? My family is wealthy and powerful, inclined in
principles to the Stuart race, and should a favourable oppor-
tunity"

"A favourable opportunity!" said Flora somewhat scorn-
fully— " inclined in principles ! — Can such lukewarm adherence
be honourable to yourselves, or gratifying to your lawful sove-
reign 1 — Think, from my present feelings, what I should suffer
when I held the place of member in a family where the rights
which I hold most sacred are subjected to cold discussion, and
only deemed worthy of support when they shall appear on the
point of triumphing without it ! "

"Your doubts," quickly replied Waverley, "are unjust as
far as concerns myself. The cause that I shall assert I dare
support through every danger, as undauntedly as the boldest
who draws sword in its behalf."

" Of that," answered Flora, " I cannot doubt for a moment.
But consult your own. good sense and reason rather than a pre-
possession hastily adopted, probably only because you have met
a young woman possessed of the usual accomplishments in a
sequestered and romantic situation. Let your part in this great
and perilous drama rest upon conviction, and not on a hurried,
and probably a temporary feeling."

Waverley attempted to reply, but his words failed him.
Every sentiment that Flora had uttered vindicated the strength
of his attachment ; for even her loyalty, although wildly enthu-
siastic, was generous and noble, and disdained to avail itself of
any indirect means of supporting the cause to which she was
devotefj.

190

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

^

After walking a little way in silence down the jjath, Flora
thus resumed the conversation. — " One word more, Sir. Waver-
ley, ere we bid farewell to this topic for ever ; and forgive my
boldness if that word have the air of advice. My brother Fer-
gus is anxious that you should join him in his present enterprise.
But do not consent to this ; you coidd not by your single exer-
tions further his success, and you would inevitably share his
fall, if it be God's pleasure that fall he must. Your character
would also sufter irretrievably. Let me beg you will return to
your own country; and having publicly freed yourself from
every tie to the usurping government, I trust you will see cause,
and find opportunity, to serve your injured sovereign with effect,
and stand forth, as your loyal ancestors, at the head of your
natui'al followers and adherents, a worthy representative of the
house of Waverley."

" And shoidd I be so happy as thus to distinguish myself,
might I not hope"

" Forgive my interruption," said Flora. " The present time
only is ours, and I can but explain to you with candour the
feelings which I now entertain ; how they might be altered by
a train of events, too favourable perhaps to be hoped for, it were
in vain even to conjecture ; only be assured, Mr. Waverley, that
after my brother's honour and happiness there is none which I
shall more sincerely pray for than for yours."

With these words she parted from him, for they were^ now
arrived where two paths separated. Waverley reached the castle
amidst a medley of conflicting passions. He avoided any private
interview with Fergus, as he did not find himself able either to
encounter his raillery or reply to his solicitations. The wild
revelry of the feast, for Mac-Ivor kept open table for his clan,
served in some degree to stun reflection. When theu- festivity
was ended he began to consider how he should again meet Miss
Mac-Ivor after the painful and interesting explanation of the
morning. But Flora did not appear. Fergus, whose eyes
flashed when he was told by Cathleen that her mistress designed
to keep her apartment that eventag, went himself in quest of
her; but apparently his remonstrances were in vain, for he
returned with a heightened complexion, and manifest symptoms
of displeasure. The rest of the evening passed on without any
allusion, on the part either of Fergus or Waverley, to the sub-
ject which engrossed the reflections of the latter, and perhaps
of both.

WAVERLEY. 191

Wheu retired to iiis ovni apartmeut, Edward endeavoured
to sum up the business of the day. That the repulse he had
received from Flora woidd be persisted in for the present there
was no doubt. But could he hope for ultimate success in case
circumstances permitted the renewal of his suit 1 Would the
enthusiastic loyalty, which at this animating moment left no
room for a softer passion, survive, at least in its engrossing force,
the success or the failure of the present political machinations 1
And if so, could he hope that the interest which she had
acknowledged him to possess in her favour might be improved
into a waiTaer attachment? He taxed his memory to recall
every word she had used, with the appropriate looks and gestures
which had enforced them, and ended by finding himself in the
same state of uncertainty. It was very late before sleep brought
relief to the tumult of his mind, after the most painful and
agitating day which he had ever passed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTH.

A LETTER FROM TULLY-VEOLAN.

In the morning when Waverley's troubled reflections had for
some time given way to repose, there came music to his
dreams, but not the voice of Selma. He imagined himself
transported back to Tully-Veolan, and that he heard Davie
Gellatley singing in the court those matins which used generally
to be the first sounds that disturbed his repose while a guest of
the Baron of Bradwardine. The notes which suggested this
vision continued, and waxed louder, until Edward awoke in
earnest. The illusion, however, did not seem entirely dispelled.
The apartment was in the fortress of Ian nan Chaistel, but it
was still the voice of Davie Gellatley that made the following
lines resound imder the window : —

My heart's iu the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's iu the Highlands a-chasing the deer ;
A chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
My heart's In the Highlands wherever I go.*

* These lines form the burden of an old song to which Bums wrote additional
verses.

192 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Curious to know what could have deterniined Mr. Gellatley
oil an excursion of such unwonted extent, Edward began
dress himself in all haste, during which operation the minstrel
of Davie changed its tune more than once : —

There's nought in the Highlands but syboes and leeks,
And lang-leggit callants gaun wanting the breeks ;
Wanting the breeks, and without hose and shoon,
But we'll a' win the breeks when King Jamie comes hame.*

By the time Waverley was dressed and had issued forth,
David had associated himself with two or three of the numerous
Highland loungers who always graced the gates of the castle
with their presence, and was capering and dancing full merrily
in the doubles and full career of a Scotch foursome reel, to the
music of his own whistling. In this double capacity of dancer
and musician, he continued, until an idle piper, who observed
his zeal, obeyed the unanimous call of Seid suas (i.e., blow up),
and relieved him from the latter part of his trouble. Yomig
and old then mingled in the dance as they could find partners.
The appearance of "Waverley did not interrupt David's exercise,
though he contrived by grinning, nodding, and throwing one or
two inclinations of the body into the graces with which he
performed the Highland fling, to convey to our hero symptoms
of recognition. Then, while busily employed in setting, whoop-
ing all the while, and snapping his fingers over his head, he of
a sudden prolonged his side-step until it brought him to the
place where Edward was standing, and, still keeping time to
the music like Harlequin in a pantomime, he thrust a letter into
our hero's hand, and continued his saltation without pause or
intermission. Edward, who perceived that the address was in
Rose's handwriting, retired to peruse it, leaving the faithfid
bearer to continue his exercise until the piper or he should be
tired out.

The contents of the letter greatly surprised him. It had
originally commenced with Dear Sir; but these words had
been carefully erased, and the monosyllable. Sir, substituted in
their place. The rest of the contents shaU be given in Kose's
own language.

* These lines are also ancient, and I believe to tlie tune ot
" We'll never hae peace till Jamie comes hame • "
to which Burns likewise wrote some verses.

WAVERLEY. 1 93

" I fear I am using an improper freedom by intruding upon
you, yet I cannot trust to any one else to let you know some
things which have happened here, with which it seems necessary
you should be acquainted. Forgive me if I am wrong in what
T am doing ; for, alas ! Mr. Waverley, I have no better advice
than that of my own feelings ; — my dear father is gone from
this place, and when he can return to my assistance and pro-
tection, God alone knows. You have probably heard, that in
consequence of some troublesome news from the Highlands,
warrants were sent out for apprehending several gentlemen in
these parts, and, among others, my dear father. In spite of all
my tears and entreaties that he would surrender himself to
the Government, he joined with Mr. Falconer and some other
gentlemen, and they have all gone northwards, with a body of
about forty horsemen. So T am not so anxious concerning his
immediate safety, as about what may follow afterwards, for
these troubles are only beginning. But all this is nothing to
you, Mr. Waverley, only I thought you would be glad to learn
that my father has escaped, in case you happen to have heard
that he was in danger.

" The day after my father went off, there came a party of
soldiers to TuUy-Veolan, and behaved very rudely to Bailie
Macwheeble ; but the officer was very civil to me, only said his
duty obliged him to search for arms and papers. My father
had provided against this by taking away all the arms except
the old useless things which hung in the hall ; and he had put
all his papers out of the way. But 0 ! Mr. Waverley, how
shall I tell you that they made strict inquiry after you, and asked
when you had been at TuUy-Veolan, and where you now were.
The officer is gone back with his party, but a non-commissioned
officer and four men remain as a sort of garrison in the house.
They have hitherto behaved very well, as we are forced to keep
them in good humour. But these soldiers have hinted as if
on your falling into their hands you would be in great danger ;
I cannot prevail on myself to write what wicked falsehoods they
said, for I am sure they are falsehoods ; but you will best judge
what you ought to do. The party that returned carried off your
servant prisoner, with your two horses, and everything that you
left at Tully-Veolan. I hope God will protect you, and that
you will get safe home to England, where you used to tell me
there was no military violence nor figliting among clans per-
VOL, I. o

194 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

mitted, but everything was done according to an equal law
that protected all who were harmless and innocent. I hope
you will exert your Indulgence as to my boldness in writing to
you, where it seems to me, thougli perhaps erroneously, that
your safety and honour are concerned. I am sure — at least I
think, my father would approve of my writing ; for Mr. Kubrick
is fled to his cousin's at the Duchran, to be out of danger from
the soldiers and the Whigs, and Bailie Macwheeble does not
like to meddle (he says) in other men's concerns, though I hope
what may serve my father's friend at such a time as this,
cannot be termed improper interference. Farewell, Captain
Waverley ! I shall probably never see you more ; for it would
be very improper to wish you to call at Tully-Veolan just now,
even if these men were gone ; but I will always remember with
gratitude your kindness in assisting so poor a scholar as myself,
and your attentions to my dear, dear father.

"I remain, your obliged servant,

" Rose Comyne Bradwardine.

"P.S. — I hope you will send me a line by David Gellatley,
just to say you have received this, and that you will take care
of yourself ; and forgive me if I entreat you, for your own sake,
to join none of these unhappy cabals, but escape, as fast as
possible, to your own fortunate country. My compliments to
my dear Flora, and to Glennaquoich. Is she not as handsome
and accomplished as I have described her?"

Thus concluded the letter of Rose Bradwardine, the contents
of which both surprised and affected Waverley. That the
Baron should fall under the suspicions of Government, in con-
sequence of the present stir among the partisans of the house
of Stuart, seemed only the natural consequence of his political
predilections; but how he himself shoidd have been involved
in such suspicions, conscious that imtil yesterday he had been
free from harbouring a thought against the prosperity of the
reigning family, seemed inexplicable. Both at Tully-Veolan
and Glennaquoich, his hosts had respected his engagements
with the existing government, and though enough passed by
accidental innuendo that might induce him to reckon the Baron
and the Chief among those disaffected gentlemen who were still
numerous in Scotland, yet until his own connection with the

I

WAVERLEY. 1 95

army had been broken off by the resumption of his commission,
he had no reason to suppose that they nourished any immediate
or hostile attempts against the present establishment. Still
he was aware that unless he meant at once to embrace the
proposal of Fergus Mac-Ivor, it would deeply concern him to
leave the suspicious neighbourhood without delay, and repair
where his conduct might undergo a satisfactory examination.
Upon this he the rather determined, as Flora's advice favoured
his doing so, and because he- felt inexpressible repugnance at
the idea of being accessary to the plague of civil war. What-
ever were the original rights of the Stuarts, calm reflection told
him, that, omitting the question how far James the Second
could forfeit those of his posterity, he had, according to the
united voice of the whole nation, justly forfeited his own.
Since that period, four monarchs had reigned in peace and
glory over Britain, sustaining and exalting the character of the
nation abroad, and its liberties at home. Keason asked, was it
worth while to disturb a government so long settled and estab-
lished, and to plunge a kingdom into all the miseries of civil
war, for the purpose of replacing upon the throne the descend-
ants of a monarch by whom it had been wilfully forfeited?
If, on the other hand, his own final conviction of the goodness
of their cause, or the commands of his father or uncle, should
recommend to him allegiance to the Stuarts, still it was neces-
sary to clear his own character by showing that he had not, as
seemed to be falsely insinuated, taken any step to this purpose,
during his holding the commission of the reigning monarch.

The afiectionate simplicity of Rose, and her anxiety for his
safety — his sense too of her unprotected state, and of the terror
and actual dangers to which she might be exposed, made an im-
pression upon his mind, and he instantly wrote to thank her in
the kindest terms for her solicitude on his account, to express
his earnest good wishes for her welfare and that of her father,
and to assure her of his own safety. The feelings which this
task excited were speedily lost in the necessity which he now
saw of bidding farewell to Flora Ma(j-Ivor, perhaps for ever.
The pang attending this reflection was inexpressible ; for her
high-minded elevation of character, her self-devotion to the cause
which she had embraced, united to her scrupulous rectitude as
to the means of serving it, had vindicated to his judgment the
choice adopted by his passions. But time pressed, caliunny was

196 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

busy with his fame, and every hour's delay increased the power
to injure it. His departure must be instant.

With this determination he sought out Fergus, and communi-
cated to him the contents of Kose's letter, with his own resolu-
tion instantly to go to Edinburgh, and put into the hands of
some one or other of those persons of influence to whom he had
letters from his father, his exculpation from any charge which
might be preferred against him.

" You run your head into the- lion's mouth," answered Mac-
Ivor. " You do not know the severity of a Government harassed
by just apprehensions, and a consciousness of their own illegality
and insecurity. I shall have to deliver you from some dungeon
in Stirlmg or Edinburgh Castle."

"My innocence, my rank, my father's intimacy with Lord

M , General G , etc., will be a sufiicient protection,"

said Waverley.

" You will find the contrary," replied the Chieftain ; " these
gentlemen will have enough to do about their own matters.
Once more, will you take the plaid, and stay a little while with
us among the mists and the crows, in the bravest cause ever
sword was drawn in?"*

"For many reasons, my dear Fergus, you must hold me
excused."

"Well, then," said Mac-Ivor, "I shall certainly find you
exerting your poetical talents in elegies upon a prison, or your
antiquarian researches in detecting the Oggamt character, or
some Punic hieroglyphic upon the key-stones of a vault, curiously
arched. Or what say you to un petit pendement lien joli ? against
which awkward ceremony I don't warrant you, should you meet
a body of the armed west-country Whigs."

"And why should they use me so?" said Waverley.

" For a hundred good reasons," answered Fergus : " First,
you are an Englishman ; secondly, a gentleman ; thirdly, a pre-
latist abjured ; and fourthly, they have not had an opportunity

* A Highland rhyme on Glencairn's Expedition, in 1650, has these
lines —

We'll bide a while among ta crows,
We'll wiske ta sword and bend ta bows

+ The Oggam is a species of the old Irish character. The idea of the
correspondence betwixt the Celtic and Punic, founded on a scene in Plan-
tns, was not started till General Vallancey set up his theory, long after the
date of Fergus Mac-Ivor.

WAVERLEY. 197

to exercise their talents on such a subject this long while. But
don't be cast down, beloved : all will be done in the fear of the
Lord."

"Well, I must run my hazard."

"You are determined, then?"

" I am."

" Wilful will do't," said Fergus ; — " but you cannot go on
foot, and I shall want no horse, as I must march on foot at the
head of the children of Ivor ; you shall have Brown Dermid."

" If you will sell him, I shall certainly be much obliged."

" If your proud English heart cannot be obliged by a gift or
loan, I will not refuse money at the entrance of a campaign ;
his price is twenty guineas. [Remember, reader, it was Sixty
Years since.] And when do you propose to depart?"

" The sooner the better," answered Waverley.

" You are right, since go you must, or rather, since go you
will : I will take Flora's pony, and ride with you as far as
Bally-Brough. — Galium Beg, see that our horses are ready, with
a pony for yourself, to attend and carry Mr. Waverley's baggage

as far as (naming a small town), where he can have a

horse and guide to Edinburgh. Put on a Lowland dress, Gal-
ium, and see you keep your tongue close, if you would not have
me cut it out; Mr. Waverley rides Dermid." Then turning to
Edward, "You will take leave of my sister?"

" Surely — that is, if Miss Mac-Ivor will honour me so far."

" Gathleen, let my sister know that Mr. Waverley wishes to
bid her farewell before he leaves us. — But Rose Bradwardine —
her situation must be thought of. I wish she were here. And
why should she not ? There are but four red-coats at TuUy-
Veolan, and their muskets would be very useful to us."

To these broken remarks Edward made no answer ; his ear
indeed received them, but his soul was intent upon the expected
entrance of Flora. The door opened — it was but Gathleen,
with her lady's excuse, and wishes for Captain Waverley's
health and happiness.

198 WAVEilLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINTH.

waverley's reception in the lowlands after his
highland tour.

It was noon when the two friends stood at the top of the pass
of Bally-Brough. " I must go no further," said Fergus Mac-
Ivor, who during the journey had in vain endeavom-ed to raise
his friend's spirits. " If my cross-grained sister has any share
in your dejection, trust me she thinks highly of you, though her
present anxiety about the public cause prevents her listening to
any other subject. Confide yoiu* interest to me ; I will not be-
tray it, providing you do not again assume that vile cockade."

" No fear of that, considering the manner in which it has
been recalled. Adieu, Fergus; do not permit your sister to
forget me."

"And adieu, Waverley; you may soon hear of her with a
prouder title. Get home, write letters, and make friends as
many and as fast as you can ; there will speedily be unexpected
guests on the coast of Suffolk, or my news from France has
deceived me."*

Thus parted the friends : Fergus returning back to his castle,
while Edward, followed by Callum Beg, the latter transformed
from point to point into a Low-coimtry groom, proceeded to the
little town of .

Edward paced on under the painful and yet not altogether
embittered feelings which separation and uncertainty produce
in the mind of a youthful lover. I am not sure if the ladies
understand the full value of the influence of absence, nor do I
think it wise to teach it them, lest, like the Clelias and Mandanes
of yore, they should resume the humour of sending their lovers
into banishment. Distance, in truth, produces in idea the same
effect as in real perspective. Objects are softened and rounded,
and rendered doubly graceful ; the harsher and more ordinary
points of character are mellowed down, and those by which it is
remembered are the more striking outlines that mark sublimity,
grace, or beauty. There are mists too in the mental as well as

* The sanguine Jacobites, during the eventful years 1745-6, kept up the
Bpirits of theii- party by the rumour of descents from France on behalf of
the Chevalier St. George.

WAVERLEY. 199

the natural horizon, to conceal what is less pleasing in distant
objects, and there are happy lights to stream in full glory upon
those points which can profit by brilliant illumination.

Waverley forgot Flora Mac-Ivor's prejudices in her magnani-
mity, and almost pardoned her indifference towards his affection,
when he recollected the grand and decisive object which seemed
to fill her whole soul. She, whose sense of duty so wholly
engrossed her in the cause of a benefactor, — what would be her
feelings in favour of the happy individual who should be so
fortunate as to awaken them 1 Then came the doubtful ques-
tion, whether he might not be that happy man, — a question
which fancy endeavoured to answer in the affirmative, by con-
juring up all she had said in his praise, with the addition of a
comment much more flattering than the text warranted. All
that was common-place — all that belonged to the every-day
world — was melted away and obliterated in those dreams of
imagination, which only remembered with advantage the points
of grace and dignity that distinguished Flora from the generality
of her sex, not the particulars which she held in common with
them. Edward was, in short, in the fair way of creating a
goddess out of a high-spirited, accomplished, and beautiful
young woman ; and the time was wasted in castle-building,
until, at the descent of a steep hill, he saw beneath him the
market-town of .

The Highland politeness of Galium Beg — there are few
nations, by the way, who can boast of so much natm-al polite-
ness as the Highlanders* — the Highland civility of his attendant
had not permitted him to disturb the reveries of our hero. But
observing him rouse himself at the sight of the village, Galium
pressed closer to his side, and hoped " When they cam to the
public, his honour wad not say nothing about Vich Ian Vohr,
for ta people were bitter Whigs, deil burst tem."

Waverley assured the prudent page that he would be cautious;
and as he now distinguished, not indeed the ringing of bells,
but the tinkling of something like a hammer against the side

* The Highlander, in former times, had always a high idea of his own
gentility, and was anxious to impress the same upon those with whom ho
conversed. His language abounded in the phrases of courtesy and compli-
ment ; and the habit of carrying arms, and mixing with those who did so,
made it particularly desirable they should use cautious politeness in their
intercourse with each other.

200 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

of an old mossy, green, inverted porridge-pot, tliat hung in an
open booth, of the size and shape of a parrot's cage, erected to
grace the east end of a building resembling an old bam, he
asked Galium Beg if it were Sunday.

" Could na say just preceesely — Sunday seldom cam aboon
the pass of Bally-Brough."

On entering the town, however, and advancing towards the
most apparent public house which presented itself, the numbers
of old women, in tartan screens and red cloaks, who streamed
from the barn-resembling building, debating as they went the
comparative merits of the blessed youth Jabesh Rentowel, and
that chosen vessel Maister Goukthrapple, induced Galium to
assure his temporary master, "that it was either ta muckle
Sunday hersell, or ta little government Sunday that they ca'd
ta fast."

On alighting at the sign of the Seven-branched Golden
Gandlestick, which, for the further delectation of the guests, was
graced with a short Hebrew motto, they were received by mine
host, a tall thin puritanical figure, who seemed to debate with
himself whether he ought to give shelter to those who travelled
on such a day. Reflecting, however, in all probability, that he
possessed the power of mulcting them for this irregularity, a
penalty which they might escape by passing into Gregor
Duncanson's, at the sign of the Highlander and the Hawick
Gill, Mr. Ebenezer Gruickshanks condescended to admit them
into his dwelling.

To this sanctified person Waverley addressed his request that
he would procure him a guide, with a saddle-horse, to carry his
portmanteau to Edinburgh.

"And whar may ye be coming from?" demanded mine host
of the Gandlestick,

" I have told you where I wish to go ; I do not conceive any
further information necessary either for the guide or his saddle-
horse."

" Hem ! Ahem ! " returned he of the Gandlestick, somewhat
disconcerted at this rebuff. " It's the general fast, sir, and I
cannot enter into ony carnal transactions on sic a day, when the
people should be humbled, and the backsliders should retm-n, as
worthy Mr. Goukthrapple said ; and moreover when, as the
precious Mr. Jabesh Rentowel did weel observe, the land was
mourning for covenants burnt, broken, and buried."

I

WAVERLEY. 201

" My good friend," said Waverley, " if you canuot let me
have a horse and guide, my servant shall seek them elsewhere."

" Aweel ! Your servant 1 — and what for gangs he not forward
wi' you himsell 1 "

Waverley had but very little of a captain of horse's spirit
within him — I mean of that sort of spirit which I have been
obliged to when I happened, in a mail-coach, or diligence, to
meet some military man who has kindly taken upon him the
disciplining of the waiters, and the taxing of reckonings.
Some of this useful talent our hero had, however, acquired dur-
ing his military service, and on this gross provocation it began
seriously to arise. "Look ye, sir; I came here for my own
accommodation, and not to answer impertinent questions.
Either say you can, or cannot, get me what I want; I shall
pursue my course in either case."

Mr. Ebenezer Cruickshanks left the room with some indistinct
muttering ; but whether negative or acquiescent, Edward could
not well distinguish. The hostess, a civil, quiet, laborious
drudge, came to take his orders for dinner, but declined to make
answer on the subject of the horse and guide ; for the Salique
law, it seems, extended to the stables of the Golden Candlestick.

From a window which overlooked the dark and narrow court
hi which Galium Beg rubbed down the horses after their journey,
Waverley heard the following dialogue betwixt the subtile foot-
page of Vich Ian Vohr and his landlord : —

" Ye'U be frae the north, young man V began the latter.

" And ye may say that," answered Galium.

" And ye'U hae ridden a laug way the day, it may weel be V

" Sae lang, that I could weel tak a dram."

"Gudewife, bring the gill stoup."

Here some compliments passed, fitting the occasion, when my
host of the Golden Candlestick, having, as he thought, opened
his guest's heart by this hospitable propitiation, resumed his
scrutiny.

"Ye'U no hae mickle better whisky than that aboon the Pass?'

" I am nae frae aboon the Pass."

" Ye're a Highlandman by your tongue ? "

" Na ; I am but just Aberdeen-a-way."

" And did your master come frae Aberdeen wi' you 1 "

"Ay— that's when I left it mysell," answered the cool and
impenetrable Galium Beg.

202 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" And what kind of a gentleman is he 1 "

" I believe he is ane o' King George's state officers ; at least,
he's aye for ganging on to the south ; and he has a hantle siller,
and never grudges onything till a poor body, or in the way of a
lawing."

" He wants a guide and a horse frae hence to Edinburgh 1 "

" Ay, and ye maun find it him forthwith."

*' Ahem ! It will be chargeable,"

" He cares na for that a bodle."

"Aweel, Duncan — did ye say your name was Duncan, or
Donald?"

" Na, man — Jamie — Jamie Steenson — I telt ye before."

This last undaunted parry altogether foiled Mr. Cruiclcshanks,
who, though not quite satisfied either with the rf.serve of the
master, or the extreme readiness of the man, was contented to
lay a tax on the reckoning and horse-hire, that might com-
pound for his ungratified curiosity. The circumstance of its
being the fast-day was not forgotten in the charge, which, on
the whole, did not, however, amount to much more than double
what in fairness it should have been.

Galium Beg soon after announced in person the ratification of
this treaty, adding, " Ta auld deevil was ganging to ride wi' ta
Duinhe-wassel hersell."

" That will not be very pleasant, Galium, nor altogether
safe, for our host seems a person of great curiosity; but a
traveller must submit to these inconveniences. Meanwhile, my
good lad, here is a trifle for you to drink Vich Ian Vohr's
health."

The hawk's eye of Galium flashed delight upon a golden
guinea, with which these last words were accompanied. He
hastened, not without a curse on the intricacies of a Saxon
breeches pocket, or spleuchan, as he called it, to deposit the
treasure in his fob ; and then, as if he conceived the benevo-
lence called for some requital on his part, he gathered close
up to Edward, with an expression of countenance peculiarly
knowing, and spoke in an under tone, " If his honoui- thought
ta auld deevil Whig carle was a bit dangerous, she could easily
provide for him, and teil ane ta wiser."

" How, and in what manner ?"

" Her ain sell," replied Galium, " could wait for him a wee
bit frae the toun, and kittle his quarters wi' her sJcene-occle.^*

WAVERLEY. 203

" Skene-occle ! what's that ?"

Galium unbuttoned his coat, raised his left arm, and with an
emphatic nod, pointed to the hilt of a small dirk, snugly depo-
sited imder it, in the lining of his jacket. Waverley thought
he had understood his meaning ; he gazed in his face, and dis-
covered in Callum's very handsome, though embrowned features,
just the degree of roguish malice vn.th. which a lad of the same
age in England would have brought forward a plan for robbing
an orchard.

" Good God, Galium, would you take the man's life 1"

" Indeed," answered the young desperado, " and I think he
has had just a lang enough lease o't, when he's for betraying
honest folk, that come to spend siller at his public."

Edward saw nothing was to be gained by argument, and
therefore contented himself with enjoining Galium to lay aside
all practices against the person of Mr. Ebenezer Cruickshanks ;
in which injunction the page seemed to acquiesce with an air of
great indifference.

" Ta Duinhd-wassel might please himsell ; ta auld rudas loon
had never done Galium nae ill. But here's a bit line frae ta
Tigheama, tat he bade me gie your honour ere I came back."

The letter from the Ghief contained Flora's lines on the fate
of Gaptain Wogan, whose enterprising character is so well drawn
by Glarendon. He had originally engaged in the service of the
Parliament, but had abjured that party upon the execution of
Gharles I. ; and upon hearing that the royal standard was set
up by the Earl of Glencairn and General Middleton in the
Highlands of Scotland, took leave of Gharles II., who was then
at Paris, passed into England, assembled a body of cavaliers in
the neighbourhood of London, and traversed the kingdom, which
had been so long under domination of the usurper, by marches
conducted with such skill, dexterity, and spirit, that he safely
united his handful of horsemen with the body of Highlanders
then in arms. After several months of desultory warfare, in
which Wogan's skill and courage gained him the highest repu-
tation, he had the misfortune to be wounded in a dangerous
manner, and no surgical assistance being within reach, he ter-
minated his short but glorious career.

There were obvious reasons why the politic Chieftain was
desirous to place the example of this young hero under the eye
of Waverley, with whose romantic disposition it coincided so

204 WAVEKLEY NOVELS.

peculiarly. But his letter turned chiefly upon some trifling
commissions which Waverley had promised to execute for him
in England, and it was only toward the conclusion that Edward
found these words : — " I owe Flora a grudge for refusing us her
company yesterday ; and as I am giving you the trouble of
reading these lines, in order to keep in your memory your
promise to procure me the fishing-tackle and cross-bow from
London, I will enclose her verses on the Grave of Wogan. This
I know will tease her ; for, to tell you the truth, I think her
more in love with the memory of that dead hero, than she is
likely to be with any living one, unless he shall tread a similar
path. But English squires of our day keep their oak-trees to
shelter their deer-parks, or repair the losses of an evening at
White's, and neither invoke them to wreath their brows, nor
shelter their graves. Let me hope for one brilliant exception
in a dear friend, to whom I would most gladly give a dearer
title."

The verses were inscribed.

In the Churchyard of , in the Highlands of Scotland, said to marl

the Grave of Captain Wogan, killed in 1649.

Emblem of England's ancient faitli,

Full proudly may thy brandies wave,
Wliere loyalty lies low in death,

And valour fills a timeless grave.

And thou, brave tenant of the tomb !

Repine not if our clime deny.
Above thine honoured sod to bloom,

The flowerets of a milder sky.

These owe their birth to genial May ;

Beneath a fiercer sim they pine,
Before the winter storm decay —

And can their worth be type of thine ?

No ! for 'mid storms of Fate opposing,
Still higher swell'd thy dauntless heart,

And, while Despair the scene was closing,
Commenced tliy brief but brilliant part.

'Twas then thou sought' st, on Albyn's hill,
(When England's sons the strife resigned),

A rugged race, resisting still,

And unsubdued, though unrefined.

WAVEKLEY. 206

Thy death's hour heard no kindred wail.

No holy knell thy requiem rung ;
Thy mourners were the plaided Gael ;

Thy dirge the clamorous pibroch sung.

Yet who, in Fortune's summer-shine,

To waste life's longest term away,
Would change that glorious dawn of thine.

Though darkened ere its noontide day.

Be thine the Tree whose dauntless boughs,
Brave summer's drought and winter's gloom !

Rome bound with oak her patriots' brows,
As Albyn shadows Wogan's tomb.

Whatever might be the real merit of Flora Mac-Ivor's poetry,
the enthusiasm which it intimated was well calculated to make
a corresponding impression upon her lover. The lines were
read — read again — then deposited in Waverley's l)osom — then
again drawn out, and read line by line, in a low and smothered
voice, and with frequent pauses which prolonged the mental
treat, as an epicure protracts, by sipping slowly, the enjoyment
of a delicious beverage. The entrance of Mrs. Cruickshanks,
with the sublunary articles of dinner and wine, hardly inter-
rupted this pantomime of affectionate enthusiasm.

At length the tall ungainly figure and ungracious visage of
Ebenezer presented themselves. The upper part of his form,
notwithstanding the season required no such defence, was
shrouded in a large great-coat, belted over his under habili-
ments, and crested with a huge cowl of the same stujff, which,
when drawn over the head and hat, completely overshadowed
both, and being buttoned beneath the chin, was called a trot-cozy.
His hand grasped a huge jockey-whip, garnished with brass
mounting. His thin legs tenanted a pair of gambadoes, fastened
at the sides with rusty clasps. Thus accoutred, he stalked into
the midst of the apartment, and announced his errand in brief
phrase : — " Yer horses are ready."

" You go with me yourself then, landlord 1"

" I do, as far as Perth ; where you may be supplied with a
guide to Embro', as your occasions shall require."

Thus saying, he placed under Waverley's eye the bill which
he held in his hand ; and at the same time, self-invited, filled
a glass of wine, and drank devoutly to a blessing on their
journey. Waverley stared at the man's impudence, but, as

206

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

their connection was to be short, and promised to be convenient,
he made no observation upon it ; and, having paid his reckoning,
expressed his intention to depart immediately. He mounted
Dermid accordingly, and sallied forth from the Golden Candle-
stick, followed by the puritanical figure we have described, after
he had, at the expense of some time and difficulty, and by the
assistance of a " louping-on-stane," or structure of masonry
erected for the traveller's convenience in front of the house,
elevated his person to the back of a long-backed, raw-boned,
thin-gutted phantom of a broken-down blood-horse, on which
Waverley's portmanteau was deposited. Our hero, though not
in a very gay humour, could hardly help laughing at the
appearance of his new squire, and at imagining the astonish-
ment which his person and equipage would have excited at
"Waverley-Honour.

Edward's tendency to mirth did not escape mine host of the
Candlestick, who, conscious of the cause, mfused a double portion
of souring into the pharisaical leaven of his countenance, and
resolved internally that in one way or other the yoimg Englisher
should pay dearly for the contempt with which he seemed to
regard him. Callum also stood at the gate, and enjoyed, with
undissembled glee, the ridiculous figure of Mr. Cruickshanks. As
Waverley passed him he pulled oflF his hat respectfully, and
approaching his stirrup, bade him " Tak heed the auld Whig
deevil played him nae cantrip."

Waverley once more thanked and bade him farewell, and
then rode briskly onward, not sorry to be out of hearing of the
shouts of the children, as they beheld old Ebenezer rise and sink
in his stirrups, to avoid the concussions occasioned by a hard

trot upon a hard-paved street. The village of was soon

several miles behind him.

WAVERLEY. 207

CHAPTER THIRTIETH

SHOWS THAT THE LOSS OF A HOKSE's SHOE MAY BE A
SERIOUS INCONVENIENCE.

The manner and air of Waverley, but above all, the glitteriug
contents of his purse, and the indifference with which he seemed
to regard them, somewhat overawed his companion, and deterred
him from making any attempts to enter upon conversation.
His own reflections were, moreover, agitated by various surmises,
and by plans of self-interest, with which these were intimately
connected. The travellers journeyed, therefore, in silence, until
it was interrupted by the annimciation on the part of the guide,
that his "naig had lost a fore-foot shoe, which, doubtless, his
honour would consider it was his part to replace."

This was what lawyers call a fishing question, calcidated to
ascertain how far Waverley was disposed to submit to petty
imposition. " My part to replace your horse's shoe, you rascal ! "
said Waverley, mistaking the purport of the intimation.

" Indubitably," answered Mr. Cniickshanks ; " though there
was no preceese clause to that effect, it canna be expected that
I am to pay for the casualties whilk may befall the puir naig
while in your honour's service. — Nathless, if your honour"

" 0, you mean I am to pay the farrier ; but where shaU we
find one?"

Rejoiced at discemmg there would be no objection made on
the part of his temporary master, Mr. Cruickshanks assured him
that Caimvreckan, a village which they were about to enter,
was happy in an excellent blacksmith ; " but as he was a pro-
fessor he would drive a nail for no man on the Sabbath or kirk
fast, imless it were in a case of absolute necessity, for which he
always charged sixpence each shoe." The most important part
of this communication, in the opinion of the speaker, made a
very slight impression on the hearer, who only internally won-
dered what college this veterinary professor belonged to ; not
aware that the word was used to denote any person who pre-
tended to uncommon sanctity of faith and manner.

As they entered the village of Caimvreckan,* they speedily

* (Supposed to represent Auchterarder, a village midway between Perth
and Stirling, noted for religious controversy.)

208 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

distinguisLed the smith's house. Being also a public, it was
two storeys high, and proudly reared its crest, covered with grey
slate, above the thatched hovels by which it was surrounded.
The adjoining smithy betokened none of the Sabbatical silence
and repose which Ebenezer had augured from the sanctity of
his friend. On the contrary, hammer clashed and anvil rang,
the bellows groaned, and the whole apparatus of Vulcan appeared
to be in full acti\'ity. Nor was the labour of a rural and pacific
nature. The master smith, benempt, as his sign intimated,
John Mucklewrath, with two assistants, toiled busily in arrang-
ing, repairing, and furbishing old muskets, pistols, and swords,
which lay scattered around his workshop in military confusion.
The open shed, containing the forge, was crowded with persons
who came and went as if receiving and communicating important
news ; and a single glance at the aspect of the people who tra-
versed the street in haste, or stood assembled in groups, with
eyes elevated, and hands uplifted, announced that some extra-
ordinary intelligence was agitating the public mind of the muni-
cipality of Caimvreckan. "There is some news," said mine
host of the Candlestick, pushing his lantern-jawed visage and
bare-boned nag rudely forward into the crowd — " there is some
news ; and if it please my Creator, I -will forthwith obtain
speirings thereof."

Waverley, with better regulated curiosity than his attendant's,
dismounted, and gave his horse to a boy who stood idling near.
It arose, perhaps, from the shyness of his character in early
youth, that he felt dislike at applying to a stranger even for
casual information, without previously glancing at his physio-
gnomy and appearance. While he looked about in order to
select the person with whom he would most willingly hold com-
munication, the buzz around saved him in some degree the
trouble of interrogatories. The names of Lochiel, Clanronald,
Glengarry, and other distinguished Highland Chiefs, among
whom Yich Ian Vohr was repeatedly mentioned, were as familiar
in men's mouths as household words ; and from the alarm gene-
rally expressed, he easily conceived that their descent into the
Lowlands, at the head of their armed tribes, had either already
taken place or was instantly apprehended.

Ere Waverley could ask particulars, a strong, large-boned,
hard-featured woman, about forty, dressed as if her clothes had
been flung on with a pitchfork, her cheeks flushed with a scarlet

WAVERLEY. 209

red where they were not smutted with soot and lamp-black,
jostled through the crowd, and brandishing high a child of two
years old, which she danced in her arms, without regard to its
screams of terror, sang forth with all her might —

" Charlie is my darling, my darling, my darling,
Charlie is my darling,

The young Chevalier !"

" D'ye hear what's come ower ye now," continued the virago,
"ye whingeing Whig carles? D'ye hear wha's coming to cow
yer cracks ?

Little wot ye wha's coming,
Little wot ye wha's coming,

A' the wild Macraws are coming."

The Vulcan of Cairnvreckan, who acknowledged his Venus
in this exulting Bacchante, regarded her with a grim and ire-
foreboding countenance, while some of the senators of the
village hastened to interpose. "Whisht, gudewife; is this a
time, or is this a day, to be singing your ranting fule sange
in?— a time when the wine of wrath is poured out without
mixture in the cup of indignation, and a day when the land
should give testimony against popery, and prelacy, and quaker-
ism, and independency, and supremacy, and erastianism, and
antinomianism, and a' the errors of the church?"

"And that's a' your Whiggery," re-echoed the Jacobite
heroine; "that's a' your Whiggery, and your presbytery, ye
cut-lugged, graning carles ! What ! d'ye think the lads wi' the
kilts will care for yer synods, and yer presbyteries, and yer
buttock-mail, and yer stool o' repentance 1 Vengeance on the
black face o't ! Mony an honester woman's been set upon it
than streeks doon beside ony Whig in the country. I
mysell "

Here John Mucklewrath, who dreaded her entering upon a
detail of personal experience, interposed his matrimonial autho-
rity. " Gae hame and be d (that I should say sae), and

put on the sowens for supper."

" And you, ye doil'd dotard," replied his gentle helpmate, her
wrath, which had hitherto wandered abroad over the whole
assembly, being at once and violently impelled into its natural
channel, ^'ye stand there hammering dog-heads for fules that
wiU never snap them at a Highlandman, instead of earning
bread for yoiu* family, and shoeing this winsome young gcntlev

VOL. L i*

210 WA.VERLEY NOVELS.

man's horse that's just come frae the north ! I'so wan-ant hun
nane of your whingeing King George folk, but a gallant Gordon,
at the least o' him."

The eyes of the assembly were now turned upon Waverley,
who took the opportunity to beg the smith to shoe his guide's
horse with all speed, as he wished to proceed on his journey ; —
for he had heard enough to make him sensible that there would
be danger in delaying long in this place. The smith's eye rested
on him with a look of displeasure and suspicion, not lessened by
the eagerness with which his wife enforced Waverley's mandate.
"D'ye hear what the weel-favoured young gentleman says, ye
drunken ne'er-do-good?"

" And what may your name be, sir 1 " quoth Mucklewrath.

" It is of no consequence to you, my friend, provided I pay
your labour."

" But it may be of consequence to the state, sir," replied an
old farmer, smelling strongly of whisky and peat-smoke ; " and
I doubt we maun delay your journey till you have seen the
Laird."

"You certainly," said Waverley, haughtily, "will find it
both difficult and dangerous to detain me, unless you can pro-
duce some proper authority."

There was a pause and a whisper among the crowd — " Secre-
tary Murray ;" " Lord Lewis Gordon ;" " Maybe the Chevalier
himseU !" Such were the surmises that passed hurriedly among
them, and there was obviously an increased disposition to resist
Waverley's departure. He attempted to argue mildly with
them, but his voluntary ally, Mrs. Mucklewrath, broke in upon
and drowned his expostulations, taking his part with an abusive
violence, which was all set down to Edward's account by those
on whom it was bestowed. " YeHl stop ony gentleman that's the
Prince's freend 1 " for she too, though with other feelings, had
adopted the general opinion respecting Waverley. " I daur ye
to touch him," spreading abroad her long and muscular fingers,
garnished with claws which a vulture might have envied. " I'll
set my ten commandments in the face o' the first loon that lays
a finger on him."

" Gae hame, gudewife," quoth the farmer aforesaid ; "it wad
better set you to be nursing the gudeman's bairns than to be
deaving us here."

I

WAVERLEY. 211

" His baims ! " retorted the amazon, regarding her husband
with a grin of ineffable contempt — " His bairns !

0 gin ye were dead, giideman,

And a green turf on your head, guderaan !

Then I wad ware my widowhood
Upon a ranting Highlandman. "

This canticle, which excited a suppressed titter among the
younger part of the audience, totally overcame the patience of
the taunted man of the. anvil. " Deil be in me but I'll put this
het gad down her throat!" cried he, in an ecstasy of wrath,
snatching a bar from the forge ; and he might have executed
his threat, had he not been withheld by a part of the mob,
while the rest endeavoured to force the termagant out of his
presence.

Waverley meditated a retreat in the confusion, but his horse
was nowhere to be seen. At length he observed, at some
distance, his faithful attendant, Ebenezer, who, as soon as he
had perceived the turn matters were likely to take, had with-
drawn both horses from the press, and, mounted on the one,
and holding the other, answered the loud and repeated calls of
Waverley for his horse — " Na, na ! if ye are nae friend to kirk
and the king, and are detained as siccan a person, ye maun
answer to honest men of the country for breach of contract ;
and I maun keep the naig and the walise for damage and ex-
pense, in respect my horse and mysell will lose to-morrow's
day's-wark, besides the afternoon preaching."

Edward, out of patience, hemmed in and hustled by the
rabble on every side, and every moment expecting personal
violence, resolved to try measui'es of intimidation, and at length
drew a pocket-pistol, threatening, on the one hand, to shoot
whomsoever dared to stop him, and, on the other, menacing
Ebenezer with a similar doom, if he stirred a foot with the
horses. The sapient Partridge says, that one man with a pistol
is equal to a hundred unarmed, because, though he can shoot
but one of the multitude, yet no one knows but that he himself
may be that luckless individual. The levy en masse of Caim-
vreckan would therefore probably have given way, nor would
Ebenezer, whose natural paleness had waxed three shades more
cadaverous, have ventured to dispute a mandate so enforced,
had not the Vulcan of the village, eager to discharge upon
some more worthy object the fury which his helpmate had

212

WA.VERLEY NOVELS.

provoked, and not ill satisfied to find such an object in Waver-
ley, rushed at him with the red-hot bar of iron, with such deter-
mination as made the discharge of his pistol an act of self-de-
fence. The unfortunate man fell ; and while Edward, thrilled
with a natural horror at the incident, neither had presence of
mind to unsheathe his sword nor to draw his remaining pistol,
the populace threw themselves upon him, disarmed him, and
were about to use him with great violence, when the appearance
of a venerable clergyman, the pastor of the parish, put a curb
on their fury.

This worthy man (none of the Goukthrapples or Rentowels)
maintained his character with the common people, although he
preached the practical fruits of Christian faith, as well as its
abstract tenets, and was respected by the higher orders, not-
withstanding he declined soothing their speculative errors by
converting the pulpit of the gospel into a school of heathen
morality. Perhaps it is owing to this mixture of faith and
practice in his doctrine that, although his memory has formed a
sort of era in the annals of Caimvreckan, so that the parishioners,
to denote what befell Sixty Years since, still say it happened
" in good Mr. Morton's time," I have never been able to dis-
cover which he belonged to, the evangelical or the moderate
party in the kirk. Nor do I hold the circumstance of much
moment, since, in my own remembrance, the one was headed by
an Erskine, the other by a Robertson.*

Mr. Morton had been alarmed by the discharge of the pistol,
and the increasing hubbub around the smithy. His first atten-
tion, after he had directed the bystanders to detain Waverley,
but to abstain from injuring him, was turned to the body of
Mucklewrath, over which his wife, in a revulsion of feeling,
was weeping, howling, and tearing her elf-locks, in a state little
short of distraction. On raising up the smith, the first dis-
covery was, that he was alive ; and the next, that he was likely
to live as long as if he had never heard the report of a pistol in
his life. He had made a narrow escape, however ; the bullet

* The Rev. John Erskine, D.D., an eminent Scottish divine; and a most
excellent man, headed the Evangelical party in the Church of Scotland at
the time when the celebrated Dr. Robertson, the historian, was the leader
of the Moderate party. ITiese two distinguished persons were colleagues
in the Old Grey-Friars' Church, Edinburgh ; and, however much they
diflFered in church politics, preserved the most perfect harmony as piivatc
friends, and as clergymen serving the same euro.

WAVERLEY. 213

had ^azed his head, and stunned him for a moment or two,
which trance terror and confusion of spirit had prolonged some-
what longer. He now arose to demand vengeance on the
person of Waverley, and with difficulty acquiesced in the pro-
posal of Mr. Morton, that he should be carried before the Laird,
as a justice of peace, and placed at his disposal. The rest of
the assistants unanimously agreed to the measure recommended ;
even Mrs. Mucklewrath, who had begim to recover from her
hysterics, whimpered forth, " She wadna say naething against
what the minister proposed ; he was e'en ower gude for his
trade, and she hoped to see him wi' a dainty decent bishop's
gown on his back ; a comelier sight than your Geneva cloaks
and bands, I wis."

All controversy being thus laid aside, Waverley, escorted by
the whole inhabitants of the village who were not bed-ridden,
was conducted to the house of Caimvreckan, which was about
half a mile distant.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIRST.

AN EXAMINATION.

Major Melville of Caimvreckan, an elderly gentleman, who
had spent his youth in the military service, received Mr. Morton
with great kindness, and our hero with civility, which the
equivocal circumstances wherein Edward was placed rendered
constrained and distant.

The nature of the smith's hurt was inquired into, and as the
actual injury was likely to prove trifling, and the circumstances
in which it was received rendered the infliction, on Edward's
part, a natural act of self-defence, the Major conceived he might
dismiss that matter, on Waverley's depositing in his hands a
small sum for the benefit of the wounded person.

" I could wish, sir," continued the Major, " that my duty
terminated here ; but it is necessary that we should have some
further inquiry into the cause of your journey through the
country at this unfortunate and distracted time."

Mr. Ebenezer Cniickshanks now stood forth, and communi-
cated to the magistrate all he knew or suspected from the

•21l4 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

reserve of Waverley, and the evasions of Callum Beg. The
horse upon which Edward rode, he said he knew to belong to
Vich Ian Vohr, though he dared not tax Edward's former
attendant with the fact, lest he should have his house and
stables burnt over his head some night by that godless gang,
the Mac-Ivors. He concluded by exaggerating his own services
to kirk and state, as having been the means, under God (as he
modestly qualified the assertion), of attaching this suspicious
and formidable delinquent. He intimated hopes of future
reward, and of instant reimbursement for loss of time, and even
of character, by travelling on the state business on the fast-day.

To this Major Melville answered, with great composure, that,
so far from claiming any merit in this affair, Mr. Cruickshanks
ought to deprecate the imposition of a very heavy fine for
neglecting to lodge, in terms of the recent proclamation, an
account with the nearest magistrate of any stranger who came
to his inn ; that as Mr. Cruickshanks boasted so much of religion
and loyalty, he should not impute this conduct to disafiection,
but only suppose that his zeal for kirk and state had been lulled
asleep by the opportunity of charging a stranger with double
horse-hire ; that, however, feeling himself incompetent to decide
singly upon the conduct of a person of such importance, he
should reserve it for consideration of the next quarter-sessions.
Now our history for the present saith no more of him of the
Candlestick, who wended dolorous and malcontent back to his
own dwelling.

Major Melville then commanded the villagers to return to
their homes, excepting two, who officiated as constables, and
whom he directed to wait below. The apartment was thus
cleared of every person but Mr. Morton, whom the Major invited
to remain ; a sort of factor, who acted as clerk ; and Waverley
himself. There ensued a painful and embarrassed pause, till
Major Melville, looking upon Waverley with much compassion,
and often consulting a paper or memorandum which he held in
his hand, requested to know his name. — " Edward Waverley."

" I thought so ; late of the dragoons, and nephew of

Sir Everard Waverley of Waverley-Honour."

" The same."

" Young gentleman, I am extremely sorry that this painful
duty has fallen to my lot."

" Duty, Major Melville, renders apologies superfluous."

WAVERLEY. 215

" True, sir ; permit me, therefore, to ask you how your time
has been disposed of since you obtained leave of absence from
your regiment, several weeks ago, until the present moment?"

" My reply," said Waverley, " to so general a question must
be guided by the nature of the charge which renders it neces-
sary. I request to know what that charge is, and upon what
authority I am forcibly detained to reply to it?"

" The charge, Mr. Waverley, I grieve to say, is of a very high
nature, and affects your character both as a soldier and a subject.
In the former capacity, you are charged with spreading mutiny
and rebellion among the men you commanded, and setting them
the example of desertion, by prolonging your own absence from
the regiment, contrary to the express orders of your command-
ing-officer. The civil crime of which you stand accused is that
of high treason, and levying war against the king, the highest
delinquency of which a subject can be guilty."

"And by what authority am I detained to reply to such
heinous calumnies?"

" By one which you must not dispute, nor I disobey."

He handed to Waverley a warrant from the Supreme Criminal
Court of Scotland, in full form, for apprehending and securing
the person of Edward Waverley, Esq., suspected of treasonable
practices and other high crimes and misdemeanours.

The astonishment which Waverley expressed at this commu-
nication was imputed by Major Melville to conscious guilt,
while Mr. Morton was rather disposed to construe it into the
surprise of innocence unjustly suspected. There was something
true in both conjectures ; for although Edward's mind acquitted
him of the crime with which he was charged, yet a hasty review
of his own conduct convinced him he might have great difficulty
in establishing his innocence to the satisfaction of others,

" It is a very painful part of this painful business," said
Major Melville, after a pause, " that, under so grave a charge, I
must necessarily request to see such papers as you have on youi
person."

" You shall, sir, without reserve," said Edward, throwing his
pocket-book and memorandums upon the table ; " there is but
one with which I could wish you would dispense."

"I am afraid, Mr. Waverley, I can indulge you with no
reservation."

" You shall see it then, sir ; and as it can be of no service, I
beg it may be returned."

216 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

He took from his bosom the lines he had that morning
received, and presented them with the envelope. The Major
perused them in silence, and directed his clerk to make a copy
of them. He then wrapped the copy in the envelope, and
placing it on the table before him, returned the original to
Waverley, with an air of melancholy gravity.

After indulging the prisoner, for such our hero must now be
considered, with what he thought a reasonable time for reflection,
Major Melville resumed his examination, premising, that as Mr.
Waverley seemed to object to general questions, his interroga-
tories should be as specific as his information permitted. He
then proceeded in his investigation, dictating, as he went on,
the import of the questions and answers to the amanuensis, by
whom it was written down.

" Did Mr. Waverley know one Humphry Houghton, a non-
commissioned officer in Gardiner's dragoons?"

" Certainly ; he was sergeant of my troop, and son of a tenant
of my uncle."

" Exactly — and had a considerable share of your confidence,
and an influence among his comrades ?"

"I had never occasion to repose confidence in a person of
his description," answered Waverley. " I favoured Sergeant
Houghton as a clever, active young fellow, and I believe his
fellow-soldiers respected him accordingly."

" But you used through this man," answered Major Melville,
"to communicate with such of your troop as were recruited
upon Waverley-Honour?"

" Certainly ; the poor fellows, finding themselves in a regiment
chiefly composed of Scotch or Irish, looked up to me in any of
their little distresses, and naturally made their countryman, and
sergeant, their spokesman on such occasions."

"Sergeant Houghton's influence," continued the Major,
" extended, then, particularly over those soldiers who followed
you to the regiment from your uncle's estate?"

" Surely ; — but what is that to the present purpose ?"

" To that I am just coming, and I beseech your candid reply.
Have you, since leaving the regiment, held any correspondence,
direct or indirect, with this Sergeant Houghton?"

" I ! — I hold correspondence with a man of his rank and
situation ! — How, or for what purpose?"

" That you are to explain ; — but did you not, for example,
send to him for some books V

VVAVEKLEY. 217

" You remind me of a trifling commission," said Waverley,
" which I gave Sergeant Houghton because my sergeant could
not read. I do recollect I bade him by letter select some
books, of which I sent him a list, and send them to me at
Tully-Veolan."

"And of what description were those books?"

"They related almost entirely to elegant literature; they
were designed for a lady's perusal."

" Were there not, Mr. Waverley, treasonable tracts and pam-
phlets among them?"

" There were some political treatises, into which I hardly
looked. They had been sent to me by the officiousness of a
kind friend, whose heart is more to be esteemed than his pru-
dence or political sagacity; they seemed to be dull compositions."

" That friend," continued the persevering inquirer, " was a
Mr. Pembroke, a non-juring clergyman, the author of two trea-
sonable works, of which the manuscripts were found among
your baggage?"

"But of which, I give you my honour as a gentleman,"
replied Waverley, " I never read six pages."

"I am not your judge, Mr. Waverley; your examination
will be transmitted elsewhere. And now to proceed — Do you
know a person that passes by the name of Wily AVill, or Will
Ruthven?"

" I never heard of such a name till this moment."

" Did you never through such a person, or any other person,
communicate with Sergeant Humphry Houghton, instigating
him to desert with as many of his comrades as he could seduce
to join him, and unite with the Highlanders and other rebels
now in arms under the command of the young Pretender?"

" I assure you I am not only entirely guiltless of the plot you
have laid to my charge, but I detest it from the very bottom
of my soul, nor would I be guilty of such treachery to gain a
throne either for myself or any other man alive."

" Yet when I consider this envelope, in the hand-writing of
one of those misguided gentlemen who are now in arms against
their country, and the verses v/hi(;h it enclosed, I cannot but
find some analogy between the enterprise I have mentioned and
the exploit of Wogan, which the waiter seems to expect you
should imitate."

Waverley was struck with the coincidence, but denied that

216 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

the wishes or expectations of the letter-writer were to be re-
garded as proofs of a charge otherwise chimerical.

" But, if I am rightly informed, your time was spent, during
your absence from the regiment, between the house of this
Highland Chieftain and that of Mr. Bradwardine of Bradwar-
dine, also in arms for this unfortimate cause?"

" I do not mean to disguise it, but I do deny, most resolutely,
being privy to any of their designs against the Government."

" You do not, however, I presimie, intend to deny that you
attended your host Glennaquoich to a rendezvous, where, imder
a pretence of a general hunting-match, most of the accomplices of
his treason were assembled to concert measures for taking arms 1"

" I acknowledge having been at such a meeting," said Waver-
ley ; " but I neither heard nor saw anything which could give
it the character you affix to it."

"From thence you proceeded," continued the magistrate,
" with Glennaquoich and a part of his clan to join the army
of the young Pretender, and returned, after having paid your
homage to him, to discipline and arm the remainder, and unite
them to his bands on their way southward?"

"I never went with Glennaquoich on such an errand. I
never so much as heard that the person whom you mention was
in the country."

He then detailed the history of his misfortune at the hunting-
match, and added, that on his return he found himself suddenly
deprived of his commission, and did not deny that he then, .^or
the first time, observed symptoms which indicated a disposition
in the Highlanders to take arms ; but added, that having no
inclination to join their cause, and no longer any reason for
remaining in Scotland, he was now on his return to his native
country, to which he had been summoned by those who had a
right to direct his motions, as Major Melville would perceive
from the letters on the table.

Major Melville accordingly perused the letters of Richard
Waverley, of Sir Everard, and of Aunt Rachel; but the in-
ferences he drew from them were different from what Waverley
expected. They held the language of discontent with Govern-
ment, threw out no obscure hints of revenge ; and that of poor
Aunt Rachel, which plainly asserted the justice of the Stuart
cause, was held to contain the open avowal of what the others
only ventured to insinuate.

WAVERLEY. 219

"Pennifc me auother question, Mr. Waverley," said Major
Melville. "Did you not receive repeated letters from your
commandiug-oflficer warning you and commanding you to return
to your post, and acquainting you with the use made of your
name to spread discontent among your soldiers ?"

" I never did. Major Melville. One letter, indeed, I received
from him, containing a civil intimation of his wish that I would
employ my leave of absence otherwise than in constant residence
at Bradwardine, as to which, I own, I thought he was not
called on to interfere ; and finally, I received, on the same day
on which I observed myself superseded in the Gazette, a second
letter from Colonel Gardiner, commanding me to join the regi-
ment— an order which, owing to my absence, already mentioned
and accounted for, I received too late to be obeyed. If there
were any intermediate letters — and certainly from the Colonel's
high character I think it probable that there were — they have
never reached me."

" I have omitted, Mr. Waverley," continued Major Melville,
" to inquire after a matter of less consequence, but which has,
nevertheless, been publicly talked of to your disadvantage. It
is said that a treasonable toast having been proposed in your
hearing and presence, you, holding his Majesty's commission,
suffered the task of resenting it to devolve upon another gentle-
man of the company. This, sir, cannot be charged against you
in a court of justice ; but if, as I am informed, the ofl&cers of
your regiment requested an explanation of such a rumour, as a
gentleman and soldier, I cannot but be surprised that you did
not afford it to them."

This was too much. Beset and pressed on every hand by
accusations, in which gross falsehoods were blended with such
circmnstances of truth as could not fail to procure them credit
— alone, unfriended, and in a strange land, Waverley almost
gave up his life and honour for lost, and leaning his head upon
his hand, resolutely refused to answer any further questions,
since the fair and candid statement he had already made had
only served to furnish arms against him.

Without expressing either surprise or displeasure at the
change in Waverley 's manner. Major Melville proceeded com-
posedly to put several other queries to him. " What does it
avail me to answer you?" said Edward sullenly. " You appear
convinced of my guilt, and wrest every reply I have made to

280 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

support your own preconceived opinion. Enjoy your supposed
triumph, then, and torment me no further. If I am capable of
the cowardice and treachery your charge burdens me with, I am
not worthy to be believed in any reply I can make to you. If
I am not deserving of your suspicion — and God and my own
conscience bear evidence with me that it is so — then I do not
see why I should by my candour lend my accusers arms against
my innocence. There is no reason I should answer a word
more, and I am determined to abide by this resolution." And
again he resumed his postiu-e of sullen and determined silence.

"Allow me," said the magistrate, "to remind you of one
reason that may suggest the propriety of a candid and open con-
fession. The inexperience of youth, Mr. Waverley, lays it open
to the plans of the more designing and artful ; and one of your
friends at least — I mean Mac-Ivor of Glennaquoich— ranks high
in the latter class, as from your apparent ingenuousness, youth,
and unacquaintance with the manners of the Highlands, I
should be disposed to place you among the former. In such a
case, a false step or error like yours, which I shall be happy to
consider as involuntary, may be atoned for, and I would will-
ingly act as intercessor. But as you must necessarily be
acquainted with the strength of the individuals in this country
who have assumed arms, with their means, and with their
plans, I must expect you will merit this mediation on my part
by a frank and candid avowal of all that has come to your
knowledge upon these heads. In which case, I think I can
venture to promise that a very short personal restraint will be
the only ill consequence that can arise from your accession to
these unhappy intrigues."

Waverley listened with gi'eat composure until the end of
this exhortation, when, springing from his seat, with an energy
he had not yet displayed, he replied, "Major Melville, since
that is your name, I have hitherto answered your questions
with candour, or declined them with temper, because their
unport. concerned myself alone ; but as you presume to esteem
me mean enough to commence informer against others, who
received me, whatever may be their public misconduct, as a
guest and friend, — I declare to you that I consider your ques-
tions as an insult infinitely more offensive than yoiu* calumnious
suspicions ; and that, since my hard fortune permits me no other
mode of resenting them than by verbal defiance, you should

WAVERLEY. 221

sooner have my "heart out of my bosom, than a single syllable
of information on subjects which I could only become acquainted
with in the full confidence of unsuspecting hospitality."

Mr. Morton and the Major looked at each other; and the
former, who, in the course of the examination, had been re-
peatedly troubled with a sorry rheum, had recourse to his snuff-
box and his handkerchief.

" Mr. Waverley," said the Major, " my present situation
prohibits me alike from giving or receiving offence, and I will
not protract a discussion which approaches to either. I am
afraid I must sign a warrant for detaining you in custody, but
this house shall for the present be your prison. I fear I cannot
persuade you to accept a share of our supper 1 — (Edward shook
his head) — but I will order refreshments in your apartment."

Our hero bowed and withdrew, under guard of the officers of
justice, to a small but handsome room, where, declining all
offers of food or wine, he flung himself on the bed, and stupified
by the harassing events and mental fatigue of this miserable
day, he sunk into a deep and heavy slumber. This was more
than he himself could have expected ; but it is mentioned of
the North American Indians, when at the stake of torture,
that on the least intermission of agony, they will sleep until
the fire is applied to awaken them.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SECOND.

A CONFEEENCE AND THE CONSEQUENCE.

Majok Melville had detained Mr. Morton durmg his exar
mination of Waverley, both because he thought he might derive
assistance from his practical good sense and approved loyalty,
and also because it was agreeable to have a witness of unim-
peached candour and veracity to proceedings which touched the
honour and safety of a young Englishman of high rank and
family, and the expectant heir of a large fortune. Every step
he knew would be rigorously canvassed, and it was his business
to place the justice and integrity of his own conduct beyond the
limits of question.

When Waverley retired, the laird and clergyman of Caini-

222 WAVEHLEY NOVELS.

vreckan sat do\vn in silence to their evening meal. While the
servants were in attendance, neither chose to say anything on
the circumstances which occupied their minds, and neither felt
it easy to speak upon any other. The youth and apparent
frankness of Waverley stood in strong contrast to the shades of
suspicion which darkened around him, and he had a sort of
naivete and openness of demeanour, that seemed to belong to
one unhackneyed in the ways of intrigue, and which pleaded
highly in his favour.

Each mused over the particulars of the examination, and each
viewed it through the medium of his own feelings. Both were
men of ready and acute talent, and both were equally competent
to combine various parts of evidence, and to deduce from them
the necessary conclusions. But the wide difference of their
habits and education often occasioned a great discrepancy in
their respective deductions from admitted premises.

Major Melville had been versed in camps and cities ; he was
vigilant by profession, and cautious from experience ; had met
with much evU in the world, and therefore, though himself an
upright magistrate and an honourable man, his opinions of
others were always strict, and sometimes unjustly severe. Mr.
Morton, on the contrary, had passed from the literary pursuits
of a college, where he was beloved by his companions, and
respected by his teachers, to the ease and simplicity of his
present charge, where his opportimities of witnessing evil were
few, and never dwelt upon but in order to encourage repent-
ance and amendment ; and where the love and respect of his
parishioners repaid his affectionate zeal in their behalf, by
endeavouring to disguise from hini what they knew would give
him the most acute pain, namely, their own occasional trans-
gressions of the duties which it was the business of his life
to recommend. Thus it was a common saying in the neigh-
bourhood (though both were popular characters), that the
laird knew only the HI in the parish, and the minister only
the good.

A love of letters, though kept in subordination to his clerical
studies and duties, also distinguished the pastor of Cairnvreckan,
and had tinged his mind in earlier days with a slight feeling
of romance, which no after incidents of real life had entirely
dissipated. The early loss of an amiable young woman, whom
he had married for love, and who was quickly followed to the

WAVERLEY. 223

grave by an only child, had also served, even after the lapse of
many years, to soften a disposition naturally mild and contem-
plative. His feelings on the present occasion were therefore
likely to differ from those of the severe disciplinarian, strict
magistrate, and distrustful man of the world.

When the servants had withdrawn, the silence of both parties
continued, until Major Melville, filling his glass, and pushing
the bottle to Mr. Morton, commenced.

" A distressing affair this, Mr. Morton. I fear this youngster
has brought himself within the compass of a halter."

" God forbid !" answered the clergyman.

" Marry, and amen," said the temporal magistrate ; " but I
think even your merciful logic will hardly deny the conclusion."

" Surely, Major," answered the clergyman, " I should hope it
might be averted, for aught we have heard to-night 1"

" Indeed !" replied Melville. " But, my good parson, you are
one of those who would communicate to every crimirial the
benefit of clergy."

" Unquestionably I would : mercy and long-suffering are the
grounds of the doctrine I am called to teach."

" True, religiously speaking ; but mercy to a criminal may be
gross injustice to the community. I don't speak of this young
fellow in particular, who I heartily wish may be able to clear
himself, for I like both his modesty and his spirit. But I fear
he has rushed upon his fate."

" And why 1 Hundreds of misguided gentlemen are now in
arms against the Government ; many, doubtless, upon principles
which education and early prejudice have gilded with the
names of patriotism and heroism ; — Justice, when she selects
her victims from such a multitude (for surely all will not be
destroyed), must regard the moral motive. He whom ambition,
or hope of personal advantage, has led to disturb the peace oiP
a well-ordered government, let him fall a victim to the laws ;
but surely youth, misled by the wild visions of chivalry and
imaginary loyalty, may plead for pardon."

" If visionary chivalry and imaginary loyalty come within the
predicament of high treason," replied the magistrate, " I know
no court in Christendom, my dear Mr. Morton, where they can
sue out their Habeas Corpus."

" But I cannot see that this youth's guilt is at aU established
to my satisfaction," said the clergyman.

22i WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" Because youi- good nature blinds your good sense," replied
Major Melville. " Observe now : this young man, descended of
a family of hereditary Jacobites, his uncle the leader of the

Tory interest in the county of , his father a disobliged and

discontented courtier, his tutor a non-juror, and the author of
two treasonable volumes — this youth, I say, enters into Gar-
diner's dragoons, briQging with him a body of young fellows
from his uncle's estate, who have not stickled at avowing, in
their way, the high church principles they learned at Waverley-
Honour, in their disputes with their comrades. To these young
men Waverley is unusually attentive ; they are supplied with
money beyond a soldier's wants, and inconsistent with his dis-
cipline ; and are under the management of a favourite sergeant,
through whom they hold an unusually close communication with
their captain, and affect to consider themselves as independent
of the other officers, and superior to their comrades."

" All this, my dear Major, is the natural consequence of their
attachment to their young landlord, and of their finding them-
selves in a regiment levied chiefly in the north of Ireland and
the west of Scotland, and of course among comrades disposed
to quarrel with them, both as Englishmen, and as members of
the Church of England."

"Well said, parson!" replied the magistrate. — "I would
some of your synod heard you. — But let me go on. This young
man obtains leave of absence, goes to Tully-Veolan — the prin-
ciples of the Baron of Bradwardine are pretty well known, not
to mention that this lad's uncle brought him off in the year
fifteen; he engages there in a brawl, in which he is said to
liave disgraced the commission he bore ; Colonel Gardiner writes
to him, first mildly, then more sharply — I think you will not
doubt his having done so, since he says so; the mess invite
him to explain the quarrel in which he is said to have been
involved ; he neither replies to his commander nor his comrades.
In the meanwhile, his soldiers become mutinous and disorderly,
and at length, when the rumour of this unhappy rebellion
becomes general, his favourite Sergeant Houghton, and another
fellow, are detected in correspondence with a French emissary,
accredited, as he says, by Captain Waverley, who urges him,
according to the men's confession, to desert with the troop and
join their captain, who was with Prince Charles. In the mean-
while this trusty captain is, by his own admission, residing at

WAVERLEY. 225

Glennaquoioh with the most active, subtle, and desperate
Jacobite in Scotland ; he goes with him at least as far as their
famous hunting rendezvous, and I fear a little farther. Mean-
while two other summonses are sent him ; one warning him of
the distm-bances in his troop, another peremptorily ordering
him to repair to the regiment, which, indeed, common sen^e
might have dictated, when he observed rebellion thickening all
round him. He returns an absolute refusal, and throws up his
commission."

" He had been already deprived of it," said Mr. Morton.

" But he regrets," replied Melville, " that the measure had
anticipated his resignation, His baggage is seized at his
quarters, and at Tully-Veolan, and is found to contain a stock
of pestilent jacobitical pamphlets, enough to poison a whole
country, besides the unprinted lucubrations of his worthy friend
and tutor Mr. Pembroke."

" He says he never read them," answered the minister.

" In an ordinary case I should believe him," replied the
magistrate, "for they are as stupid and pedantic in composi-
tion, as mischievous in their tenets. But can you suppose any
thing but value for the principles they maintain would induce
a yoimg man of his age to lug such trash about with himi
Then, when news arrive of the approach of the rebels, he sets
out in a sort of disguise, refusing to tell his name ; and if yon
old fanatic tell truth, attended by a very suspicious character,
and moimted on a horse known to have belonged to Glenna-
quoich, and bearing on his person letters from his family ex-
pressing high rancour against the house of Brunswick, and a
copy of verses in praise of one Wogan, who abjured the service
of the Parliament to join the Highland insurgents, when in
arms to restore the house of Stuart, with a body of English
cavalry — the very counterpart of his own plot — and summed
up with a ' Go thou and do likewise,' from that loyal subject,
and most safe and peaceable character, Fergus Mac-Ivor of
Glennaquoich, Vich Ian Vohr, and so forth. And, lastly,"
continued Major Melville, warming in the detail of his argu-
ments, " where do we find this second edition of Cavalier
Wogan ? Why, truly, in the very track most proper for execu-
tion of his design, and pistoling the first of the king's subjects
who ventures to question his intentions."

Mr. Morton pmdently abstained from argument, which he

VOL. I. Q

226

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

perceived would only harden the magistrate in his opinion, and
merely asked how he intended to dispose of the prisoner 1

" It is a question of some difficulty, considering the state of
the country," said Major Melville.

"Could you not detain him (being such a gentleman-like
young man) here in your own house, out of harm's way, till
this storm blow over?"

" My good friend," said Major Melville, " neither your house
nor mine will be long out of harm's way, even were it legal to
confine him here. I have just learned that the commander-in-
chief, who marched into the Highlands to seek out and disperse
the insurgents, has declined giving them battle at Corryerick,
and marched on northward with all the disposable force of
Government to Inverness, John-o'-Groat's House, or the de^Tl,
for what I know, leaving the road to the Low Country open
and undefended to the Highland army."

" Good God !" said the clergyman. " Is the man a coward,
a traitor, or an idiot?"

"None of the three, I believe," answered Melville. "Sir
John has the common-place courage of a common soldier, is
honest enough, does what he is commanded, and understands
what is told him, but is as fit to act for himself in circumstances
of importance, as I, my dear parson, to occupy your pulpit."

This important public intelligence naturally diverted the
discourse from Waverley for some time; at length, however,
the subject was resumed.

"I believe," said Major Melville, "that I must give this
young man in charge to some of the detached parties of armed
volunteers, who were lately sent out to overawe the disaffected
districts. They are now recalled towards Stirling, and a smaU
body comes this way to-morrow or next day, commanded by
the westland man, — what's his name? — You saw him, and
said he was the verj^ model of one of Cromwell's military
saints."

" Gilfillan, the Cameronian," answered Mr. Morton. " I wish
the young gentleman may be safe with him. Strange things
are done in the heat and hurry of minds m so agitating a crisis,
and I fear GUfillan is of a sect which has suffered persecution
without learning mercy."

" He has only to lodge Mr. Waverley in Stirling Castle," said
the Major : " I will give strict injunctions to treat him well

WAVEKLEY. 227

I really cannot devise any better mode for securing him, and 1
fancy you would hardly advise me to encounter the responsibility
of setting him at liberty."

" But you will have no objection to my seeing him to-morrow
ill private?" said the minister.

" None, certainly ; your loyalty and character are my warrant.
But with what view do you make the request?"

" Simply," replied Mr. Morton, " to make the experiment
whether he may not be brought to communicate to me some
circumstances which may hereafter be usefid to alleviate, if not
to exculpate his conduct."

The friends now parted and retired to rest, each filled with
the most anxious reflections on the state of the country.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THIRI).

A CONFIDANT.

Waverley awoke in the morning from troubled dreams and
unrefreshing slumbers, to a full consciousness of the horrors of
his situation. How it might terminate he knew not. He might
be delivered up to military law, which, in the midst of civil war,
was not likely to be scrupulous in the choice of its victims or
the quality of the evidence. Nor did he feel much more com-
fortable at the thoughts of a trial before a Scottish court of
justice, where he knew the laws and forms differed in many
respects from those of England, and had been taught to believe,
however erroneously, that the liberty and rights of the subject
were less carefully protected. A sentiment of bitterness rose in
his mind against the Government, which he considered , as the
cause of his embarrassment and peril, and he cursed internally
his scrupulous rejection of Mac-Ivor's invitation to accompany
him to the field.

" Why did not I," he said to himself, " like other men of
honour, take the earliest opportunity to welcome to Britain the
descendant of her ancient kings, and lineal heir of her throne 1
Why did not I

Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,

And welcome home again discarded faith,

Seek out Vvince Charles, and fall before his feet ?

228 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

All that has been recorded of excellence and worth m the house
of Waverley has been founded upon their loyal faith to the
house of Stuart. From the interpretation which this Scotch
magistrate has put upon the letters of my uncle and father, it
is plain that I ought to have understood them as marshalling
me to the course of my ancestors ; and it has been my gross
d Illness, joined to the obscurity of expression which they adopted
for the sake of security, that has confounded my judgment.
Had I yielded to the first generous impulse of indignation when
I learned that my honour was practised upon, how different had
been my present situation ! I had then been free and in arms,
fighting, like my forefathers, for love, for loyalty, and for fame.
And now I am here, netted and in the toils, at the disposal of
a suspicious, stem, and cold-hearted man, perhaps to be turned
over to the solitude of a dungeon, or the infamy of a public
execution. 0 Fergus ! how true has your prophecy proved ;
and how speedy, how very speedy, has been its accomplish-
ment?"

While Edward was ruminating on these painful subjects of
contemplation, and very naturally, though not quite so justly,
bestowing upon the reigning dynasty that blame which was due
to chance, or, in part at least, to his own unreflecting conduct,
Mr. Morton availed himself of Major Melville's permission to
pay him an early visit.

Waverley's first impulse was to intimate a desire that he
might not be disturbed with questions or conversation; but
he suppressed it upon observing the benevolent and reverend
appearance of the clergyman who had rescued him from the
immediate violence of the villagers.

" I believe, sir," said the unfortunate young man, " that in
any other circumstances I should have had as much gratitude
to express to you as the safety of my life may be worth ; but
such is the present tumult of my mind, and such is my antici-
pation of what I am yet likely to endure, that I can hardly offer
you thanks for your interposition."

Mr. Morton replied, " that, far from making any claim upon
his good opinion, his only wish and the sole purpose of his visit
was to find out the means of deserving it. My excellent friend,
Major Melville," he continued, " has feelings and duties as a
soldier and public functionary, by which I am not fettered ;
nor can I always coincide in opinions which he forms, perhaps

WAVERLEY. 229

with too little allowance for the imperfections of human nature.'
He paused, and then proceeded : "I do not intrude myself on
your confidence, Mr. Waverley, for the purpose of learning any
circumstances, the knowledge of which can be prejudicial either
to yourself or to others ; but I own my earnest wish is, that
you would entrust me with any particulars which could lead
to your exculpation. I can solemnly assure you they will be
deposited with a faithful and, to the extent of his limited
powers, a zealous agent."

" You are, sir, I presume, a Presbyterian clergyman 1" — Mr.
Morton bowed. — " Were I to be guided by the prepossessions of
education, I might distrust your friendly professions in my case ;
but I have observed that similar prejudices are nourished in this
country against your professional brethren of the Episcopal per-
suasion, and I am willing to believe them equally unfounded in
both cases."

" Evil to him that thinks otherwise," said Mr. Morton ; " or
who holds church government and ceremonies as the exclusive
gage of Christian faith or moral virtue."

" But," continued Waverley, " I cannot perceive why I should
trouble you with a detail of particulars, out of which, after re-
volving them as carefully as possible in my recollection, I find
myself unable to explain much of what is charged against me.
I know, indeed, that I am innocent, but I hardly see how I can
hope to prove myself so."

"It is for that veiy reason, Mr. Waverley," said the clergy-
man, " that I venture to solicit your confidence. My knowledge
of individuals in this country is pretty general, and can upon
occasion be extended. Your situation will, I fear, preclude
your taking those active steps for recovering intelligence, or
tracing imposture, which I would willingly imdertake in your
behalf; and if you are not benefited by my exertions, at least
they cannot be prejudicial to you."

Waverley, after a few minutes' reflection, was convinced that
his reposing confidence in Mr. Morton, so far as he himself was
concerned, could hurt neither Mr. Bradwardine nor Fergus
Mac-Ivor, both of whom had openly assumed arms against the
Government, and that it might possibly, if the professions of
his new friend corresponded in sincerity with the earnestness of
his expression, be of some service to himself. He therefore ran
briefly over most of the events with which the reader is already

230 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

acquainted, suppressing his attachment to Flora, and, indeed,
neither mentioning her nor Rose Bradwardine in the course oi
his narrative.

Mr. Morton seemed particularly struck with the account of
Waverley's visit to Donald Bean Lean. " I am glad," he said,
" you did not mention this circumstance to the Major. It is
capable of great misconstruction on the part of those who do
not consider the power of curiosity and the influence of romance
as motives of youthful conduct. When I was a yoimg man like
you, Mr. Waverley, any such hair-brained expedition (I beg
your pardon for the expression) would have had inexpressible
charms for me. But there are men in the world who will not
believe that danger and fatigue are often incurred without any
very adequate cause, and therefore who are sometimes led to
assign motives of action entirely foreign to the truth. This
man Bean Lean is renowned through the country as a sort of
Robin Hood, and the stories which are told of his address and
enterprise are the common tales of the winter fireside. He cer-
tainly possesses talents beyond the rude sphere in which he
moves ; and being neither destitute of ambition nor encumbered
with scruples, he will probably attempt by every means to dis-
tinguish himself during the period of these unhappy commotions."
Mr. Morton then made a careful memorandum of the various
particulars of Waverley's interview with Donald Bean Lean,
and the other circumstances which he had commimicated.

The interest which this good man seemed to take in his mis-
fortunes— above all, the full confidence he appeared to repose in
his innocence — had the natural effect of softening Edward's
heart, whom the coldness of Major Melville had taught to
believe that the world was leagued to oppress him. He shook
Mr. Morton warmly by the hand, and assuring him that his
kindness and sympathy had relieved his mind of a heavy load,
told him, that whatever might be his own fate, he belonged to a
family who had both gratitude and the power of displaying it.

The earnestness of his thanks called drops to the eyes of the
worthy clergyman, who was doubly interested in the cause for
which he had volunteered his services, by observing the genuine
and undissembled feelings of his young friend.

Edward now inquired if Mr. Morton knew what was likely
to be his destination.

" Stirling Castle," replied his friend ; " and so far I am weD

WAVERLEY. 231

pleased for your sake, for the governor is a man of honour and
humanity. But I am more doubtful of your treatment upon
the road ; Major Melville is involimtarily obliged to entrust the
custody of your person to another."

" I am glad of it," answered Waverley. " I detest that cold-
blooded calculating Scotch magistrate. I hope he and I shall
never meet more : he had neither sympathy with my innocence
nor my wretchedness ; and the petrifying accuracy with which
he attended to every foim of civility, while he tortured me by
his questions, his suspicions, and his inferences, was as tor-
menting as the racks of the Inquisition. Do not vindicate
him, my dear sir, for that I cannot bear with patience; tell
me rather who is to have the charge of so important a state
prisoner as I am."

" I believe a person called Gilfillan, one of the sect who ai'e
termed Cameronians."

" I never heard of them before."

" They claim," said the clergyman, " to represent the more
strict and severe Presbyterians, who in Charles Second's and
James Second's days, refused to profit by the Toleration, or
Indulgence, as it was called, which was extended to others of
that religion. They held conventicles in the open fields, and
being treated with great violence and cruelty by the Scottish
government, more than once took arms during those reigns.
They take their name from their leader, Richard Cameron."

" I recollect," said Waverley ; " but did not the triumph of
Presbytery at the Revolution extinguish that sect?"

" By no means," replied Morton ; " that great event fell yet
far short of what they proposed, which was nothing less than
the . complete establishment of the Presbyterian Church, upon
the grounds of the old Solemn League and Covenant. Indeed,
I believe they scarce knew what they wanted ; but being a
numerous body of men, and not unacquainted with the use of
arms, they kept themselves together as a separate paity in the
state, and at the time of the Union had nearly formed a most
unnatural league with their old enemies, the Jacobites, to
oppose that important national measiu-e. Since that time theii-
numbers have gradually diminished ; but a good many are still
to be found in the western counties, and several, with a better
temper than in 1707, have now taken arms for Government,
This person, whom they call Gifted Gilfillan, has been long a

232

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

leader among them, and now heads a small party, which will
pass here to-day, or to-morrow, on their march towards Stirling,
under whose escort Major Melville proposes you shall travel. I
would willingly speak to Gilfillan in your behalf; but, having
deeply imbibed all the prejudices of his sect, and being of the
same fierce disposition, he would pay little regard to the remon-
strances of an Erastian divine, as he would politely term me. —
And now, farewell, my young friend ; for the present, I must
not weary out the Major's indulgence, that I may obtain hifi
permission to visit you again in the course of the day."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOURTH.

THINGS MEND A LITTLE,

About noon, Mr. Morton returned, and brought an invitatioD
from Major Melville that Mr. Waverley would honour him with
his company to dinner, notwithstanding the unpleasant affair
which detained him at Cairnvreckan, from which he should
heartily rejoice to see Mr. Waverley completely extricated. The
truth was, that Mr. Morton's favourable report and opinion had
somewhat staggered the preconceptions of the old soldier con-
cerning Edward's supposed accession to the mutiny in the regi-
ment ; and in the unfortunate state of the country, the mere
suspicion of disaffection, or an inclination to join the insurgent
Jacobites, might infer crimuiality indeed, but certainly not
dishonour. Besides, a person whom the Major trusted had
reported to him (though, as it proved, inaccurately) a con-
tradiction of the agitating news of the preceding evening.
According to this second edition of the intelligence, the High-
landers had withdrawn from the Lowland frontier with the
purpose of following the army in their march to Inverness.
The Major was at a loss, indeed, to reconcile his information
with the well-known abilities of some of the gentlemen in the
Highland army, yet it was the course which was likely to be
most agreeable to others. He remembered the same policy
had detained them in the north in the year 1715, and he
anticipated a similar termination to the insurrection as upon
that occasion.

WAVEllLKY. 233

This news put him in such good humour, that he readily
acquiesced in Mr. Morton's proposal to pay some hospitable
attention to his unfortimate guest, and voluntarily added, he
hoped the whole affair would prove a youthful escajjade, which
might be easily atoned by a short confinement. The kind
mediator had some trouble to prevail on his young friend to
accept the invitation. He dared not urge to him the real
motive, which was a good-natured wish to secure a favourable
report of Waverley's case from Major Melville to Governor
Blakeney. He remarked, from the flashes of our hero's spirit,
that touching upon this topic would be sure to defeat his
purpose. He therefore pleaded, that the invitation argued the
Major's disbelief of any part of the accusation which was incon-
sistent with Waverley's conduct as a soldier and a man of honour,
and that to decline his courtesy might be interpreted into a
consciousness that it was unmerited. In short, he so far satisfied
Edward that the manly and proper course was to meet the Major
on easy terms, that, suppressing his strong dislike again to en-
counter his cold and punctilious civility, Waverley agreed to
be guided by his new friend.

The meeting, at first, was stiff and formal enough. But
Edward having accepted the invitation, and his mind being
really soothed and relieved by the kindness of Morton, held
himself bound to behave with ease, though he could not affect
cordiality. The Major was somewhat of a hon vivant, and his
wine was excellent. He told his own campaign stories, and
displayed much knowledge of men and manners. Mr. Morton
had an internal fund of placid and quiet gaiety, which seldom
failed to enliven any small party in which he found himself
pleasantly seated. Waverley, whose life was a dream, gave
ready way to the predominating impulse, and became the most
lively of the party. He had at all times remarkable natural
powers of conversation, though easily silenced by discourage-
ment. On the present occasion, he piqued himself upon leaving
on the minds of his companions a favourable impression of one
who, under such disastrous circumstances, could sustain his
misfortunes with ease and gaiety. His spirits, though not
unyielding, were abundantly elastic, and soon seconded his
efforts. The trio were engaged in very lively discourse, appa-
rently delighted with each other, and the kind host was press-
ing a thud bottle of Burgundy, when the sound of a drum wa?

234 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

heard at some distance. The Major, who, in the glee of an old
soldier, had forgot the duties of a magistrate, cursed, with a
muttered military oath, the circumstances which recalled him
to his official functions. He rose and went towards the window,
which commanded a very near view of the high-road, and he
was followed by his g-uests.

The drum advanced, beating no measured martial tune, but
a kind of rub-a-dub-dub, like that with which the fire-drum
startles the slumbering artizans of a Scotch burgh. It is the
object of this history to do justice to all men ; I must therefore
record, in justice to the drummer, that he protested he could
beat any known march or point of war known in the British
army, and had accordingly commenced with "Dumbarton's
Drums," when he was silenced by Gifted GilfiUan, the com-
mander of the party, who refused to permit his followers to
move to this profane, and even, as he said, persecuting tune,
and commanded the drummer to beat the 119th Psalm. As
this was beyond the capacity of the drubber of sheepskin, he
was fain to have recourse to the inoffensive row-de-dow, as a
harmless substitute for the sacred music which his instrument
or skill were unable to achieve. This may be held a trifling
anecdote, but the drummer in question was no less than town-
drummer of Anderton. I remember his successor in office, a
member of that enlightened body, the British Convention : be
his memory, therefore, treated with due respect.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIFTH.

A VOLUNTEER SIXTY YEARS SINCE.

On hearing the unwelcome sound of the drum, Major Melville
hastily opened a sashed-door, and stepped out upon a sort of
terrace which divided his house from the high-road from which
the martial music proceeded. Waverley and his new friend
followed him, though probably he would have dispensed with
their attendance. They soon recognised in solemn march, first,
the performer upon the drum ; secondly, a large flag of four
compartments, on which were inscribed the words Covenant,
Kirk, King, Kingdoms. Tlie erson who was honoured with

WAVERLEY. 236

this charge was followed by the commander of the party, a thin,
dark, rigid-looking man, about sixty years old. The spiritual
pride, which in mine Host of the Candlestick mantled in a sort
of supercilious hypocrisy, was in this man's face elevated and
yet darkened by genuine and undoubting fanaticism. It was
impossible to behold him without imagination placing him in
some strange crisis, where religious zeal was the ruling principle.
A martyr at the stake, a soldier in the field, a lonely and banished
wanderer consoled by the intensity and supposed purity of his
faith under eveiy earthly privation ; perhaps a persecuting inqui-
sitor, as terrific in power as unyielding in adversity ; any of these
seemed congenial characters to this personage. With these high
traits of energy, there was something in the affected precision
and solemnity of his deportment and discourse that bordered
upon the ludicrous ; so that, according to the mood of the spec-
tator's mind, and the light under which Mr. Gilfillan presented
himself, one might have feared, admired, or laughed at him.
His dress was that of a west-country peasant, of better materials
indeed than that of the lower rank, but in no respect affecting
either the mode of the age, or of the Scottish gentry at any
period. His arms were a broadsword and pistols, which, from
the antiquity of their appearance, might have seen the rout of
Pentland, or Bothwell Brigg.

As he came up a few steps to meet Major Melville, and
touched solemnly, but slightly, his huge and overbrimmed blue
bonnet in answer to the Major, who had courteously raised a
small triangular gold-laced hat, Waverley was irresistibly im-
pressed with the idea that he beheld a leader of the Roundheads
of yore in conference with one of Marlborough's captains.

The group of about thirty armed men who followed this
gifted commander, was of a motley description. They were in
ordinary Lowland dresses of different colours, which, contrasted
with the arms they bore, gave them an irregular and mobbish
appearance ; so much is the eye accustomed to connect unifor-
mity of dress with the military character. In front were a
few who apparently partook of their leader's enthusiasm ; men
obviously to be feared in a combat where their natural courage
was exalted by religious zeal. Others puffed and strutted, filled
with the importance of carrying arms, and all the novelty of
their situation, while the rest, apparently fatigued with their
Qiarcli, dragged their limbs ILstlessly along, or straggled from

SiS WAVERLEY NOVELS.

their companions to procure such refreshments as the neigh-
bouring cottages and ale-houses afforded. — Six grenadiers of
Ligonier's, thought the Major to himself, as his mind reverted
to his OAvn military experience, would have sent all these fellows
to the right about.

Greeting, however, Mr. Gilfillan civilly, he requested to know
if he had received the letter he had sent to him upon his march,
and could undertake the charge of the state prisoner whom he
there mentioned, as far as Stirling Castle. "Yea," was the
concise reply of the Cameronian leader, in a voice which seemed
to issue from the very penetralia of his person.

" But your escort, Mr. Gilfillan, is not so strong as I expected,"
said Major Melville.

" Some of the people," replied Gilfillan, " hungered and were
athirst by the way, and tarried until their poor souls were re-
freshed with the word."

" I am sorry, sir," replied the Major, " you did not trust to
70ur refreshing your men at Cairn vreckan ; whatever my house
contains is at the command of persons employed in the service."

" It was not of creature comforts I spake," answered the
Covenanter, regarding Major Melville with something like a
smile of contempt ; " howbeit, I thank you ; but the people re-
mained waiting upon the precious Mr. Jabesh Rentowel, for the
out-pouring of the afternoon exhortation."

" And have you, sir," said the Major, " when the rebels are
about to spread themselves through this country, actually left a
great part of your command at a field-preaching !"

Gilfillan again smiled scornfully as he made this indirect
answer — " Even thus are the children of this world wiser in
their generation than the children of light ! "

" However, sir," said the Major, "as you are to take charge
of this gentleman to StMing, and deliver him, with these papers,
into the hands of Governor Blakeney,' I beseech you to observe
some rules of military discipline upon your march. For example,
I would advise you to keep your men more closely together, and
that each in his march should cover his file leader, instead of
straggling like geese upon a common ; and for fear of sm'prise.
I further recommend to you to form a small advance-party of youi
best men, with a single vidette in front of the whole march, so
that when you approach a village or a wood" — (Here the Major
interrupted himself) — " But as I don't observe you listen to me.

WAVERLEY. 237

Mr. Gilfillan, I suppose I need not give myself the trouble to
say more upon the subject. You are a better judge, imques-
tionably, than I am, of the measures to be pursued ; but one
thing I would have you well aware of, that you are to treat this
gentleman, your prisoner, with no rigour nor incivility, and are
to subject him to no other restraint than is necessary for his
security."

"I have looked into my commission," said Mr. Gilfillan,
"subscribed by a worthy and professing nobleman, William,
Earl of Glencairn ; nor do I find it therein set down that I am
to receive any charges or commands anent my doings from
Major William Melville of Cairn vreckan."

Major Melville reddened even to the well-powdered ears which
appeared beneath his neat military side-curls, the more so as he
observed Mr. Morton smile at the same moment. " Mr. Gilfillan,"
he answered with some asperity, " I beg ten thousand pardons
for interfering with a person of your importance. I thought,
however, that as you have been bred a grazier, if I mistake not,
there might be occasion to remind you of the difference between
Highlanders and Highland cattle ; and if you should happen to
meet with any gentleman who has seen service, and is disposed
to speak upon the subject, I should still imagine that listening
to him would do you no sort of harm. But I have done, and
have only once more to recommend this gentleman to your
civility, as well as to your custody. — Mr. Waverley, I am truly
sorry we should part in this way ; but I trust when you are
again in this country I may have an opportunity to render
Cairnvreckan more agreeable than circumstances have permitted
on this occasion."

So saying, he shook oiu" hero by the hand. Morton also took
an affectionate farewell; and Waverley, having mounted his
horse, with a musketeer leading it by the bridle, and a file upon
each side to prevent his escape, set forward upon the march with
Gilfillan and his party. Through the little village they were
accompanied with the shouts of the children, who cried out,
" Eh ! see to the Southland gentleman, that's gaun to be hanged
for shooting lang John Mucklewrath the smith !"

238 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIXTH.

AN INCIDENT.

The dinner-hour of Scotland Sixty Years since was two o'clock.
It was therefore about four o'clock of a delightful autumn after-
noon that Mr. GilfiUan commenced his march, in hopes, although
Stirling was eighteen miles distant, he might be able, by be-
coming a borrower of the night for an hour or two, to reach it
that evening. He therefore put forth his strength, and marched
stoutly along at the head of his followers, eyeing our hero from
time to time, as if he longed to enter into controversy with him.
At length, unable to resist the temptation, he slackened his pace
till he was alongside of his prisoner's horse, and after marching
a few steps in silence abreast of him, he suddenly asked, —
" Can ye say wha the carle was wi' the black coat and the
mousted head, that was wi' the Laird of Cairn vreckanl"

" A Presbyterian clergyman," answered Waverley.

"Presbyterian!" answered Gilfillan contemptuously; "a
wretched Erastian, or rather an obscured Prelatist, — a favourer
of the black Indulgence; ane of thae dumb dogs that canna
bark : they tell ower a clash o' terror and a clatter o' comfort
in their sermons, without ony sense, or savour, or life. — Ye've
been fed in siccan a fauld, belike?"

" No ; I am of the Church of England," said Waverley.

" And they're just neighbour-like," replied the Covenanter ;
" and nae wonder they gree sae weel. Wha wad hae thought
the goodly structure of the Kirk of Scotland, built up by our
fathers in 1642, wad hae been defaced by carnal ends and the
corruptions of the time ; — ay, wha wad hae thought the carved
work of the sanctuary would hae been sae soon cut down !"

To this lamentation, which one or two of the assistants
chorussed with a deep groan, our hero thought it unnecessary
to make any reply. Whereupon Mr Gilfillan, resolving that
he should be a hearer at least, if not a disputant, proceeded in
his Jeremiade.

" And now is it wonderful, when, for lack of exercise anent
the call to the service of the altar and the duty of the day,
ministers fall into sinful compliances with patronage, and
indemnities, and oaths, and bonds, and other corruptions, — is

WAVERLEY. 239

it wonderful, I say, that you, sir, and other sic-like unhappy
persons, should labour to build up your auld Babel of iniquity,
as in the bluidy persecuting saint-killing times 1 I trow, gin ye
werena blinded wi' the graces and favours, and services and
enjoyments, and employments and inheritances, of this wicked
world, I could prove to you, by the Scripture, in what a filthy
rag ye put your trust ; and that your surplices, and your copes
and vestments, are but cast-off garments of the muckle harlot,
that sitteth upon seven hills, and drinketh of the cup of abomi-
nation. But, I trow, ye are deaf as adders upon that side of
the head ; ay, ye are deceived with her enchantments, and ye
traffic with her merchandise, and ye are drunk with the cup of
lier fornication !"

How much longer this military theologist might have con-
tinued his invective, in which he spared nobody but the scattered
remnant of hill-folk, as he called them, is absolutely uncertain.
His matter was copious, his voice powerful, and his memory
strong ; so that there was little chance of his ending his exhort-
ation till the party had reached Stirling, had not his attention
been attracted by a pedlar who had joined the march from a
cross-road, and who sighed or groaned with great regularity at
all fitting pauses of his homily.

"And what may ye be friend?" said the Gifted GilfiUan.

"A puir pedlar, that's bound for Stirling, and craves the
protection of your honour's party in these kittle times. Ah !
your honour has a notable faculty in searching and explaining
the secret, — ay, the secret and obscm-e and incomprehensible
causes of the backslidings of the land ; ay, your honour touches
the root o' the matter."

" Friend," said Gilfillan, with a more complacent voice than
he had hitherto used, "honour not me. I do not go out to
park-dikes, and to steadings, and to market-towns, to have
herds and cottars and burghers pull off their bonnets to me as
they do to Major Melville o' Cairnvreckan, and ca' me laird, or
captain, or honour ; — ^no ; my sma' means, whilk are not aboon
twenty thousand merk, have had the blessing of increase, but
the pride of heart has not increased with them ; nor do I delight
to be called captain, though I have the subscribed commission
of that gospel-searching nobleman, the Earl of Glencairn, in
whilk I am so designated. While I live, I am and will be
called Habakkuk Gilfillan, who will stand up for the standards

240 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

of doctrine agreed on by the ance-famous Kirk of Scotland^
before she trafficked with the accursed Achan, while he has a
plack in his purse, or a drap o' bluid in his body."

" Ah," said the pedlar, " I have seen your land about
Mauchlin — a fertile spot ! your lines have fallen in pleasant
places ! — and siccan a breed o' cattle is not in ony laird's land
in Scotland."

"Ye say right, — ye say right, friend," retorted GilfiUan
eagerly, for he was not inaccessible to flattery upon this sub-
ject,— " ye say right ; they are the real Lancashire, and there's
no the like o' them even at the Mains of Kilmaurs;" and he
then entered into a discussion of their excellences, to which our
readers will probably be as indifferent as our hero. After this
excursion, the leader returned to his theological discussions,
while the pedlar, less profound upon those mystic points, con-
tented himself with groaning, and expressing his edification at
suitable intervals.

"What a blessing it would be to the puir blinded popish
nations among whom I hae sojourned, to have siccan a light to
their paths ! I hae been as far as Muscovia in my sma' trading
way, as a travelling merchant ; and I hae been through France,
and the Low Countries, and a' Poland, and maist feck o' Ger-
many ; and 0 ! it would grieve your honour's soul to see the
murmuring, and the singing, and massing, that's in the kirk,
and the piping that's in the quire, and the heathenish dancing
and dicing upon the Sabbath !"

This set GilfiUan off" upon the Book of Sports and the
Covenant, and the Engagers, and the Protesters, and the
Whiggamore's Raid and the assembly of Divines at West-
minster, and the Longer and Shorter Catechism, and the
Excommunication at Torwood, and the slaughter of Archbishop
Sharp. This last topic, again, led him into the lawfulness of
defensive arms, on which subject he uttered much more sense
than could have been expected from some other parts of his
harangue, and attracted even Waverley's attention, who had
hitherto been lost in his own sad reflections. Mr. GilfiUan then
considered the lawfulness of a private man's standing forth as
the avenger of public oppression, and as he was labouring with
great earnestness the cause of Mas James Mitchell, who fired at
the Archbishop of St. Andrews some years before the prelate's
assassination on Magus Muir, an incident occurred which
interrupted his harangue

WAVERLKY. 241

The rays of the sun were lingering on the very verge of the
horizon, as the party ascended a hollow and somewhat steep path,
which led to the summit of a rising ground. The country was
unenclosed, being part of a very extensive heath or common ; but
it was far from level, exhibiting in many places hollows filled with
furze and broom ; in others little dingles of stunted brushwood.
A thicket of the latter description crowned the hill up which
the party ascended. The foremost of the band, being the stoutest
and most active, had pushed on, and havmg siu-mounted the
ascent, were out of ken for the present. GilfiUan, with the
pedlar, and a small party who were Waverley's more imme-
diate guard, were near the top of the ascent, and the remainder
straggled after them at a considerable interval.

Such was the situation of matters, when the pedlar, missing,
as he "said, a little doggie which belonged to him, began to halt
and whistle for the animal. This signal, repeated more than
once, gave offence to the rigour of his companion, the rather
because it appeared to indicate inattention to the treasures of
theological and controversial knowledge which was pouring out
for his edification. He therefore signified gruffly, that he could
not waste his time in waiting for a useless cur.

"But if your honour w^ould consider the case of Tobit"

"Tobit!" exclaimed GilfiUan, with great heat; " Tobit and
his dog baith are altogether heathenish and apocryphal, and
none but a prelatist or a papist would draw them into question.
I doubt I hae been mista'en in you, friend."

" Very likely," answered the pedlar, with great composure ;
" but ne'ertheless, I shall take leave to whistle again upon puir
Bawty."

This last signal was answered in an unexpected manner ; for
six or eight stout Highlanders, who lurked among the copse and
bi-ushwood, sprung into the hollow way, and began to lay about
them with their claymores. GilfiUan, unappalled at this unde-
sirable apparition, cried out manfully, " The sword of the Lord
and of Gideon !" and, drawing his broadsword, would probably
have done as much credit to the good old cause as any of its
doughty champions at Drumclog, when, behold ! the pedlar
snatching a musket from the person who was next him, bestowed
the butt of it with such emphasis on the head of his late instructor
in the Cameronian creed, that he was forthwith levelled to the
ground. In the confusion which ensued, the horse which bore
VOL. I. n

242

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

our hero was shot by one of GilfiUan's party, as he discharged
his fire-lock at random. Waverley fell with, and indeed under,
the animal, and sustained some severe contusions. But he was
almost instantly extricated from the fallen steed by two High-
landers, who, each seizing him by the arm, hurried him away
from the scuffle and from the high-road. They ran with great
speed, half supporting and half dragging our hero, who could,
however, distinguish a few dropping shots fired about the spot
which he had left. This, as he afterwards learned, proceeded
from GilfiUan's party, who had now assembled, the stragglers in
front and rear having joined the others. At their approach, the
Highlanders drew off", but not before they had rifled Gilfillan
and two of his people, who remained on the spot grievously
wounded. A few shots were exchanged betwixt them and the
Westlanders; but the latter, now without a commander, and
apprehensive of a second ambush, did not make any serious
efibrt to recover their prisoner, judging it more wise to proceed
on their journey to Stirling, carrying with them their wounded
captain and comrades.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVENTH.

WAVERLEY IS STILL IN DISTRESS.

The velocity, and indeed violence, with which Waverley was
hurried along, nearly deprived him of sensation ; for the injury
he had received from his fall prevented him from aiding him-
self so efi'ectually as he might otherwise have done. When
this was observed by his conductors, they called to their aid
two or three others of the party, and swathing our hero's body
in one of their plaids, divided his weight by that means among
them, and transported him at the same rapid rate as before,
without any exertion of his o\^^l. They spoke little, and that
in Gaelic; and did not slacken their pace till they had run
nearly two miles, when they abated their extreme rapidity,
but continued still to walk very fast, relieving each other
occasionally.

Our hero now endeavoured to address them, but was only

WAVERLEY. 243

answered with " Gha n^eil BmrV cujam" i.e., " I have no
English," being as Waverley well knew, the constant reply of
a Highlander, when he either does not understand, or does not
choose to reply to, an Englishman or Lowlander. He then
mentioned the name of Vich Ian Vohr, concluding that he was
indebted to his friendship for his rescue from the clutches of
Gifted GilfiUan ; but neither did this produce any mark of
recognition from his escort.

The twilight had given place to moonshine when the party
halted upon the brink of a precipitous glen, which, as partly
enlightened by the moonbeams, seemed full of trees and tangled
brushwood. Two of the Highlanders dived into it by a small
foot-path, as if to explore its recesses, and one of them returning
in a few minutes, said something to his companions, who instantly
raised their burden, and bore him with great attention and
care, down the narrow and abrupt descent. Notwithstanding
their precautions, however, Waverley's person came more than
once into contact, rudely enough, with the projecting stumps
and branches which overhung the pathway.

At the bottom of the descent, and as it seemed, by the side
of a brook, (for Waverley heard the rushing of a considerable
body of water, although its stream was invisible in the darkness,)
the party again stopped before a small and rudely constructed
hovel. The door was open, and the inside of the premises
appeared as uncomfortable and rude as its situation and exterior
foreboded. There was no appearance of a floor of any kind ;
the roof seemed rent in several places ; the walls were composed
of loose stones and turf, and the thatch of branches of trees.
The fire was in the centre, and filled the whole wigwam with
smoke, which escaped as much through the door as by means
of a circular aperture in the roof. An old Highland sibyl, the
only inhabitant of this forlorn mansion, appeared busy in the
preparation of some food. By the light which the fire afforded,
Waverley could discover that his attendants were not of the clan
of Ivor, for Fergus was particularly strict in requiring from his
followers that they should wear the tartan striped in the mode
peculiar to their race ; a mark of distinction anciently general
through the Highlands, and still maintained by those Chiefs
who were proud of their lineage, or jealous of their separate and
exclusive authority.

Edward had lived at Glennaquoich long enough to be aware

244 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

of a distinction which he had repeatedly heard noticed; and
now satisfied that he had no interest with his attendants, he
glanced a disconsolate eye around the interior of the cabin.
The only furniture, excepting a washing-tub, and a wooden
press, called in Scotland an amhry, sorely decayed, was a large
wooden bed, planked, as is usual, all around, and opening by a
sliding panel. In this recess the Highlanders deposited Waverley,
after he had by signs declined any refreshment. His slumbers
were broken and unrefreshing ; strange visions passed before
his eyes, and it required constant and reiterated efforts of mind
to dispel them. Shivering, violent headache, and shooting pains
in his Umbs, succeeded these symptoms ; and in the morning it
was evident to his Highland attendants or guard, for he knew
not in which light to consider them, that Waverley was quite
unfit to travel.

After a long consultation among themselves, six of the party
left the hut with their arms, leaving behind an old and a young
man. The former addressed Waverley, and bathed the contu-
sions, which swelling and livid colour now made conspicuous.
His own portmanteau, which the Highlanders had not failed to
bring off, supplied him with linen, and, to his great surprisCj
was, with all its undiminished contents, freely resigned to his
use. The bedding of his couch seemed clean and comfortable,
and his aged attendant closed the door of the bed, for it had
no curtain, after a few words of Gaelic, from which Waverley
gathered that he exhorted him to repose So behold our hero
for a second time the patient of a Highland ^Esculapius, but in
a situation much more uncomfortable than when he was the
guest of the worthy Tomanrait.

The symptomatic fever which accompanied the injuries he
had sustained did not abate till the third day, when it gave way
to the care of his attendants and the strength of his constitution,
and he could now raise himself in his bed, though not without
pain. He observed, however, that there was a great disinclina-
tion, on the part of the old woman who acted as his nurse, as
well as on that of the elderly Highlander, to permit the door of
the bed to be left open, so that he might amuse himself with
observing their motions; and at length, after Waverley had
repeatedly drawn open, and they had as frequently shut, the
hatchway of his cage, the old gentleman put an end to the
contest, by securing it on the outside with a nail, so effectually

WAVERLEY. 245

that the door could not be drawn till this exterior impediment
was removed.

While musing upon the cause of this contradictory spirit in
persons wliose conduct intimated no purpose of plunder, and
who, in all other points, appeared to consult his welfare and hia
wishes, it occurred to our hero, that during the worst crisis of
his illness, a female figiu-e, younger than his old Highland niu-se,
had appeared to flit aroimd his couch. Of this indeed, he had
but a very indistinct recollection, but his suspicions were con-
firmed when, attentively listening, he often heard, in the course
of the day, the voice of another female conversing in whispers
with his attendant. Who could it be 1 And why should she
apparently desire concealment? Fancy immediately aroused
herself, and turned to Flora Mac-Ivor. But after a short con-
flict between his eager desire to believe she was in his neighbour-
hood, guarding, like an angel of mercy, the couch of his sickness,
Waverley was compelled to conclude that his conjecture was
altogether improbable ; since, to suppose she had left the com-
paratively safe situation at Glennaquoich to descend into the
Low Coimtry, now the seat of civil war, and to inhabit such a
lurking-place as this, was a thing hardly to be imagined. Yet
his heart bounded as he sometimes could distinctly hear the
trip of a light female step glide to or from the door of the hut,
or the suppressed sounds of a female voice, of softness and
delicacy, hold dialogue with the hoarse inward croak of old
Janet, for so he understood his antiquated attendant was de-
nominated.

Having nothing else to amuse his solitude, he employed him-
self in contriving some plan to gratify his curiosity, in spite of
the sedulous caution of Janet and the old Highland janizary,
for he had never seen the young fellow since the first morning.
At length, upon accurate examination, the infirm state of his
wooden prison-house appeared to supply the means of gratifying
his curiosity, for out of a spot which was somewhat decayed he
was able to extract a nail. Through this minute aperture he
could perceive a female form, wrapped in a plaid, in the act of
conversing with Janet. But, since the days of our grandmother
Eve the gratification of inordinate curiosity has generally borne
its penalty in disappointment. The form was not that of Flora,
nor was the face visible ; and, to crown his vexation, while he
laboured with the nail to enlarge the hole, that he miglit obtain

346 WAVEKLEY NOYELS.

a more complete view, a slight noise betrayed his purpose, and
the object of his curiosity instantly disappeared ; nor, so far as
he could observe, did she again revisit the cottage.

All precautions to blockade his view were from that time
abandoned, and he was not only permitted, but assisted to rise
and quit what had been, in a literal sense, his couch of confine-
ment. But he was not allowed to leave the hut ; for the young
Highlander had now rejoined his senior, and one or other was
constantly on the watch. Whenever Waverley approached the
cottage door, the sentinel upon duty civilly, but resolutely,
placed himself against it and opposed his exit, accompanying
his action with signs which seemed to imply there was danger
in the attempt, and an enemy in the neighbourhood. Old
Janet appeared anxious and upon the watch; and Waverley,
who had not yet recovered strength enough to attempt to take
his departure in spite of the opposition of his hosts, was under
the necessity of remaining patient. His fare was, in every point
of view, better than he could have conceived ; for poultry, and
even wine were no strangers to his table. The Higlilanders
never presumed to eat with him, and unless in the circumstance
of watching him, treated him with great respect. His sole
amusement was gazing from the window, or rather the shapeless
aperture which was meant to answer the purpose of a window,
upon a large and rough brook, which raged and foamed through
a rocky channel, closely canopied wdth trees and bushes, about
ten feet beneath the site of his house of captivity.

Upon the sixth day of his confinement, Waverley found
himself so well that he began to meditate his escape from this
dull and miserable prison-house, thinking any risk which he
might incur in the attempt preferable to the stupifying and
intolerable uniformity of Janet's retirement. The question
indeed occurred, whither he was to direct his course when again
at his own disposal. Two schemes seemed practicable, yet both
attended with danger and difiiculty. One was to go back to
Glennaquoich, and join Fergus Mac-Ivor, by whom he was sure
to be kindly received ; and in the present state of his mind, the
rigour with which he had been treated fully absolved him, in
his own eyes, from his allegiance to the existing government.
The other project was to endeavour to attain a Scottish seaport, ^
and thence to take shipping for England. His mind wavered \
between these plans ; and probably, if he had effected his escape '^

WAVERLEY. 247

m the manner he proposed, he would have been finally deter-
mined by the comparative facility by which either might have
been executed. But his fortune had settled that he was not tc
be left to his option.

Upon the evening of the seventh day the door of the hut
suddenly opened, and two Highlanders entered, whom Waverley
recognised as having been a part of his original escort to this
cottage. They conversed for a short time with the old man and
his companion, and then made Waverley understand, by very
significant signs, that he was to prepare to accompany them.
This was a joyful communication. What had already passed
during his confinement made it evident that no personal injury
was designed to him ; and his romantic spirit, having recovered
during his repose much of that elasticity which anxiety, resent-
ment, disappointment, and the mixture of unpleasant feelings
excited by his late adventures, had for a time subjugated, was
now wearied with inaction. His passion for the wonderful,
although it is the nature of such dispositions to be excited by
that degree of danger which merely gives dignity to the feeling
of the individual exposed to it, had sunk under the extraordinaiy
and apparently insurmountable evils by which he appeared en-
vironad at Caii-nvreckan. In fact, this compound of intense
curiosity and exalted imagination forms a peculiar species of
courage, which somewhat resembles the light usually carried by
a miner, — sufficiently competent, indeed, to affbrd him guidance
and comfort during the ordinary perils of his labom*, but certain
to be extinguished should he encounter the more formidable
hazard of earth-damps or pestiferous vapours. It was now,
however, once more rekindled, and with a throbbing mixture
of hope, awe, and anxiety, Waverley watched the group before
him, as those who had just arrived snatched a hasty meal, and
the others assumed their arms, and made brief preparations for
their departiu-e.

As he sat in the smoky hut, at some distance from the fire,
around which the others were crowded, he felt a gentle pressure
upon his arm. He looked round — it was Alice, the daughter
of Donald Bean Lean. She showed him a packet of papers in
such a manner that the motion was remarked by no one else,
put her finger for a second to her lips, and passed on, as if to
assist old Janet in packing Waverley's clothes in his portmanteau.
It was obviously her wish that ho shoidd not seem to recognise

24S VVAVERLEY NOVELS.

her ; yet she repeatedly looked back at him, as an opportunity
occurred of doing so unobserved, and when she saw that ho
remarked what she did, she folded the packet with gi'eat address
and speed in one of his shirts, which she deposited in the
portmanteau.

Here then was fresh food for conjecture. Was Alice his
unknowu warden, and was this maiden of the cavern the tutelar
genius that watched his bed during his sickness ? Was he in
the hands of her father? and if so, what was his purpose?
Spoil, his usual object, seemed in this case neglected ; for not
only was Waverley's property restored, but his piu'se, which
might have tempted this professional plunderer, had been all
along suffered to remain in his possession. All this perhaps the
packet might explain ; but it was plain from Alice's manner
that she desired he should consult it in secret. Nor did she
again seek his eye after she had satisfied herself that her
manoeuvre was observed and understood. On the contrary, she
shortly afterwards left the hut, and it was only as she tript out
from the door, that, favoured by the obscurity, she gave Waver-
ley a parting smile and nod of significance, ere she vanished in
the dark glen.

The young Highlander was repeatedly despatched by his
comrades as if to collect intelligence. At length when he had
returned for the third or fourth time, the whole party arose,
and made signs to our hero to accompany them. Before his
departure, however, he shook hands with old Janet, who had
been so sedulous in his behalf, and added substantial marks of
his gratitude for her attendance.

" God bless you ! God prosper you, Captain Waverley ! " said
Janet, in good Lowland Scotch, though he had never hitherto
heard her utter a syllable save in Gaelic. But the impatience
of his attendants prohibited his asking any explanatioit

WAVERLEY. ^'^^

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHTH.

A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE.

There was a moment's pause when the whole party had got
Diit of the hut ; and the Highlander who assumed the command,
and who, in Waverley's awakened recollection, seemed to be
the same tall figure who had acted as Donald Bean Lean's
lieutenant, by whispers and signs imposed the strictest silence.
He delivered to Edward a sword and steel pistol, and, pointing
up the tract, laid his hand on the hilt of his o^vn claymore, as
if to make him sensible they might have occasion to use force
to make good their passage. He then placed himself at the
head of the party, who moved up the pathway in single or
Indian file, Waverley being placed nearest to their leader. He
moved with great precaution, as if to avoid giving any alarm,
and halted as soon as he came to the verge of the ascent.
Waverley was soon sensible of the reason, for he heard at no
great distance an English sentinel call out "All's well." The
heavy sound sunk on the night-wind down the woody glen, and
was answered by the echoes of its banks. A second, third, and
fourth time, the signal was repeated, fainter and fainter, as if at
a gi'eater and greater distance. It was obvious that a party of
soldiers were near, and upon their guard, though not sufficiently
so to detect men skilful in every art of predatory warfare, like
those with whom he now watched their ineff'ectual precautions.
When these sounds had died upon the silence of the night,
the Highlanders began their march swiftly, yet with the most
cautious silence. Waverley had little time, or indeed disposition,
for observation, and could only discern that they passed at some
distance from a large building, in the windows of which a light
or two yet seemed to twinkle. A little farther on, the leading
Highlander snuffed the wind like a setting spaniel, and then
made a signal to his party again to halt. He stooped down
upon all-fours, wrapped up in his plaid, so as to be scarce
distinguishable from the heathy ground on which he moved, and
advanced in this posture to reconnoitre. In a short time he
returned, and dismissed his attendants excepting one ; and, inti-
mating to Waverley, that he must imitate his cautious mode of
proceeding, all three crept forward on hands and kneea.

250 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

After proceeding a greater way in this inconvenient manner
than was at all comfortable to his knees and shins, Waverley
perceived the smell of smoke, which probably had been much
sooner distinguished by the more acute nasal organs of his
guide. It proceeded from the corner of a low and ruinous
sheep-fold, the walls of which were made of loose stones, as is
usual in Scotland. Close by this low wall the Highlander guided
Waverley, and, in order probably to make him sensible of his
danger, or perhaps to obtain the full credit of his own dexterity,
he intimated to him, by sign and example, that he might raise
his head so as to peep into the sheep-fold. Waverley did so,
and beheld an outpost of four or five soldiers lying by their
watch-fire. They were all asleep, except the sentinel, who
paced backwards and forwards with his firelock on his shoulder,
which glanced red in the light of the fire as he crossed and
recrossed before it in his short walk, casting his eye frequently
to that part of the heavens from which the moon, hitherto
obscured by mist, seemed now about to make her appearance.

In the course of a minute or two, by one of those sudden
changes of atmosphere incident to a mountainous country, a
breeze arose, and swept before it the clouds which had covered
the horizon, and the night planet poured her full effulgence
upon a wide and blighted heath, skirted indeed with copse-
wood and stunted trees in the quarter from which they had
come, but open and bare to the observation of the sentinel in
that to which their course tended. The wall of the sheep-fold,
indeed, concealed them as they lay, but any advance beyond its
shelter seemed impossible without certain discovery.

The Highlander eyed the blue vault, but far from blessing
the useful light with Homer's or rather Pope's benighted
peasant, he muttered a Gaelic curse upon the unseasonable
splendour of Mac-Farlane's huat (i.e., lantern.)* He looked
anxiously around for a few minutes, and then apparently took
his resolution. Leaving his attendant with Waverley, after
motioning to Edward to remain quiet, and giving his comrade
directions in a brief whisper, he retreated, favoured by the
irregularity of the ground, in the same direction and in the
same manner as they had advanced. Edward, turning his head
after him, could perceive him crawling on all-fours with the
dexterity of an Indian, availing himself of every bush and
* Note P. Mac-Farlane's Tiantern,

WAVERLEY. 251

inequality to escape observation, and never passing over the
more exposed parts of his track until the sentinel's back was
turned from him. At length he reached the thickets and
underwood which partly covered the moor in that direction, and
probably extended to the verge of the glen where Waverley
had been so long an inhabitant. The^ Highlander disappeared,
but it was only for a few minutes, for he suddenly issued forth
from a different part of the thicket, and advancing boldly upon
the open heath, as if to invite discovery, he levelled his piece,
and fired at the sentinel. A wound in the arm proved a
disagreeable interruption to the poor fellow's meteorological
observations, as well as to the tune of Nancy Dawson, which
he was whistling. He returned the fii'e ineffectually, and his
comrades starting up at the alarm, advanced alertly towards
the spot from which the first shot had issued. The Highlander,
after giving them a full view of his person, dived among the
thickets, for his ruse de guen-e had now perfectly succeeded.

While the soldiers pm-sued the cause of their disturbance in
one direction, Waverley, adopting the hint of his remaining
attendant, made the best of his speed in that which his guide
originally intended to pursue, and which now (the attention of
the soldiers being drawn to a different quarter) was unobserved
and unguarded. When they had run about a quarter of a
mile, the brow of a rising ground, which they had surmounted,
concealed them from further risk of observation. They still
heard, however, at a distance, the shouts of the soldiers as they
hallooed to each other upon the heath, and they could also hear
the distant roll of a drum beating to arms in the same direction.
But these hostile sounds were now far in their rear, and died
away upon the breeze as they rapidly proceeded.

When they had walked about half-an-hour, still along open
and waste ground of the same description, they came to the
stump of an ancient oak, which, from its relics, appeared to
have been at one time a tree of very large size. In an adjacent
hollow they found several Highlanders, with a horse or two.
They had not joined them above a few minutes, which Waver-
ley's attendant employed, in all probability, in communicating
the cause of their delay (for the words "Duncan Duroch" were
often repeated), when Duncan himself appeared, out of breath
indeed, and with all the symptoms of having run for his life,
but laughing, and in high spirits at the success of the stratagem

252 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

by which he had baffled his pursuers. This, indeed, Wavcrley
could easily conceive might be a matter of no great difficulty
to the active mountaineer, who was perfectly acquainted with
the ground, and traced his course with a firmness and confidence
to which his pursuers must have been strangers. The alarm
which he excited seeme^ still to continue, for a dropping shot
or two were heard at a great distance, which seemed to serve as
an addition to the mirth of Duncan and his comrades.

The mountaineer now resumed the arms with which he had
entrusted our hero, giving him to understand that the dangers
of the journey were happily surmounted. Waverley was then
mounted upon one of the horses, a change which the fatigue
of the night and his recent illness rendered exceedingly accept-
able. His portmanteau was placed on another pony, Duncan
moimted a third, and they set forward at a round pace, accom-
panied by their escort. No other incident marked the course
of that night's journey, and at the dawn of morning they
attained the banks of a rapid river. The country around was
at once fertile and romantic. Steep banks of wood were broken
by corn fields, which this year presented an abundant harvest,
already in a great measure cut down.

On the opposite bank of the river, and partly surrounded by
a winding of its stream, stood a large and massive castle, the
half-ruined turrets of which were -already glittering in the first
rays of the sun.* It was in form an oblong square, of size
sufficient to contain a large court in the centre. The towers at
each angle of the square rose higher than the walls of the
building, and were in their turn surmounted by turrets, difier-
ing in height, and irregular in shape. Upon one of these a
sentinel watched, whose bonnet and plaid streaming in the
wind declared him to be a Higlilander, as a broad white ensign,
which floated from another tower, annoimced that the garrison
was held by the insurgent adherents of the House of Stuart.

Passing hastily through a small and mean town, where theii
appearance excited neither surprise nor curiosity in the few
peasants whom the labours of the harvest began to siunmon
from their repose, the party crossed an ancient and narrow
bridge of several arches, and turning to the left, up an avenue
of huge old sycamores, Waverley found himself in front of the
gloomy yet picturesque stmcture wliich he had admired at 8
* Note Q. Castle of Doune.

WAVERLEY. 263

distance. A huge iron-grated door, wliicli formed the exterior
defence of the gateway, was ah-eady thrown back to receive
them ; and a second, heavily constructed of oak. and studded
thickly with iron nails, being next opened, admitted them into
the interior court-yard. A gentleman dressed in the Highland
garb, and having a white cockade in his bonnet, assisted Waver-
ley to dismount from his horse, and with much courtesy bid
him welcome to the castle.

The governor, for so we must term him, having conducted
Waverley to a half-ruinous apartment, where, however, there
was a small camp-bed, and having offered him any refreshment
which he desired, was then about to leave him.

" Will you not add to your civilities," said Waverley, after
having made the usual acknowledgment, " by having the kind-
ness to inform me where I am, and whether or not I am to con-
sider myself as a prisoner ?"

" I am not at liberty to be so explicit upon this subject as I
could wish. Briefly, however, you are in the Castle of Doune.
in the district of Menteith, and in no danger whatever."

" And how am I assured of that 1"

" By the honour of Donald Stewart, governor of the garrison,
and lieutenant-colonel in the service of his Royal Highness
Prince Charles Edward." So saying, he hastily left the apart-
ment, as if to avoid further discussion.

Exhausted by the fatigues of the night, our hero now threw
himself upon the bed, and was in a few minutes fast asleep.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINTH.

THE JOURNEY IS CONTINUED.

Before Waverley awakened from his repose the day was far
advanced, and he began to feel that he had passed many hours
without food. This was soon supplied in form of a copious
breakfast, but Colonel Stewart, as if wishing to avoid the
([ueries of his guest, did not again present himself His com-
pliments were, however, delivered by a servant, with an offer to
provide any thing in his power that could be useful to Captain
Waverley on his journey, which he intimated would be con

254 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

tinned that evening. To Waverley's further inquiries the
servant opposed the impenetrable barrier of real or affected
ignorance and stupidity. He removed the table and provisions,
and Waverley was again consigned to his own meditations.
y^ As he contemplated the strangeness of his fortune, which
seemed to delight in placing him at the disposal of others
without the power of directing his own motions, Edward's eye
suddenly rested upon his portmanteau, which had been deposited
in his apartment during his sleep. The mysterious appearance
of Alice in the cottage of the glen immediately rushed upon
his mind, and he was about to secure and examine the packet
which she had deposited among his clothes, when the servant
of Colonel Stewart again made his appearance, and took up the
portmanteau upon his shoulders.

" May I not take out a change of linen, my friend V

" Your honour sail get ane o' the Colonel's ain ruffled sarks,
but this maun gang in the baggage-cart."

And so saying, he very coolly carried off the portmanteau
without waiting further remonstrance, leaving our hero in a
state where disappointment and indignation struggled for the
mastery. In a few minutes he heard a cart rumble out of the
nigged court-yard, and made no doubt that he was now dis-
possessed, for a space at least, if not for ever, of the only docu-
ments which seemed to promise some light upon the dubious
events which had of late influenced his destiny. With such
melancholy thoughts he had to beguile about four or five hours
of solitude.

When this space was elapsed, the trampling of horse was
heard in the court-yard, and Colonel Stewart soon after made
his appearance to request his guest to take some further refresh-
ment before his departure. The offer was accepted, for a late
breakfast had by no means left our hero incapable of doing
honour to dinner, which was now presented. The conversation
of his host was that of a plain country gentleman, mixed with
some soldier-like sentiments and expressions. He cautiously
avoided any reference to the military operations or civil politics
of the time : and to Waverley's direct inquiries concerning some
of these points, replied, that he was not at liberty to speak upon
such topics.

When dinner was finished, the governor arose, and, wishing
Edward a good journey, said, that having been informed by

WAVERLEY. 255

Waverley's servant that his baggage had been sent forward, he
had taken the freedom to supply him with such changes of
Unen as he might find necessary, till he was again possessed of
his own. With this compliment he disappeared. A servant
acquainted Waverley an instant afterwards that his horse was
ready.

Upon this hint he descended into the court-yard, and found
a trooper holding a saddled horse, on which he mounted, and
sallied from the portal of Doune Castle, attended by about a
score of armed men on horseback. These had less the appear-
ance of regular soldiers than of individuals who had suddenly
assumed arms from some pressing motive of unexpected emer-
gency. Their uniform, which was blue and red, an afi'ected
imitation of that of French chasseurs, was in many respects
incomplete, and sate awkwardly upon those who wore it.
Waverley's eye, accustomed to look at a well-disciplined regi-
ment, could easily discover that the motions and habits of his
escort were not those of trained soldiers, and that, although
expert enough in the management of their horses, their skill
was that of huntsmen or grooms, rather than of troopers. The
horses were not trained to the regular pace so necessary to
execute simultaneous and combined movements and formations ;
nor did they seem bitted (as it is technically expressed) for the
use of the sword. The men, however, were stout, hardy-looking
fellows, and might be individually formidable as irregular
cavalry. The commander of this small party was mounted
upon an excellent hunter, and although dressed in uniform, his
change of apparel did not prevent Waverley from recognising
his old acquaintance, Mr. Falconer of Balmawhapple.

Now, although the terms upon which Edward had parted
with this gentleman were none of the most friendly, he would
have sacrificed every recollection of their foolish quarrel for the
pleasure of enjoying once more the social intercourse of question
and answer, from which he had been so long secluded. But
apparently the remembrance of his defeat by the Baron of
Bradwardine, of which Edward had been the unwilling cause,
still rankled in the mind of the low-bred, and yet proud laird.
He carefully avoided giving the least sign of recognition, riding
doggedly at the head of his men, who, though scarce equal in
numbers to a sergeant's party, were denominated Captain
Falconer's troop, being preceded by a trumpet, which soimded

256

WAVEIILEY NOVELS.

from time to time, and a standard, borne by Comet Falconer,
the laird's younger brother. The lieutenant, an elderly man,
had much the air of a low sportsman and boon companion ; an
expression of dry humour predominated in his countenance,
over features of a vulgar cast, which indicated habitual intem-
perance. His cocked hat was set knowingly upon one side of
his head, and while he whistled the " Bob of Dumblain," under
the influence of half-a-mutchkin of brandy, he seemed to trot
merrily forward, with a happy indifference to the state of the
country, the conduct of the party, the end of the journey, and
all other sublunary matters whatever.

From this wight, who now and then dropped alongside of his
horse, Waverley hoped to acquire some information, or at least
to beguile the way with talk.

" A fine evening, sir," was Edward's salutation.

" Ow, ay, sir ! a bra' night," replied the lieutenant, in broad
Scotch of the most vulgar description.

" And a fine harvest, apparently," continued Waverley, follow-
ing up his first attack.

" Ay, the aits will be got bravely in : but the farmers, deil
burst them, and the corn-mongers will make the auld price gude
against them as has horses till keep."

"You perhaps act as quarter-master, sir?"

" Ay, quarter-master, riding-master, and lieutenant," answered
this ofiicer of all work. " And, to be sm-e, wha's fitter to look
after the breaking and the keeping of the poor beasts than
mysell, that bought and sold eveiy ane o' them?"

" And pray, sir, if it be not too great a freedom, may I beg
to know where we are going just now?"

"A fule's errand, I fear," answered this communicative
personage.

"In that case," said Waverley, determined not to spare
civility, " I should have thought a person of your appearance
would not have been found on the road."

" Vera true, vera true, sir," replied the officer, " but every
why has its wherefore. Ye maun ken, the laird there bought
a' thir beasts frae me to munt his troop, and agreed to pay for
them according to the necessities and prices of the time. But
then he hadna the ready penny, and I hae been advised his
bond will not be worth a boddle agamst the estate, and then I
had a' my dealers to settle wi' at Martinmas j and so as he very

WAVERLEY. 257

kindly offered me this commission, and as the auld Fifteen*
wad never help me to my siller for sending out naigs against
the Govermnent, why, conscience ! sir, I thought my best
chance for payment was e'en to gae outf mysell ; and ye may
judge, sir, as I hae dealt a' my life in halters, I think na mickle
o' putting my craig in peril of a St. Johnstone's tippet." %

" You are not, then, by profession a soldier?" said Waverley.

" Na, na -, thank God," answered this doughty partisan, " 1
wasna bred at sae short a tether ; I was brought up to hack and
manger. I was bred a horse-couper, sir ; and if I might live
to see you at Whitson-tryst, or at Stagshawbank, or the winter
fair at Hawick, and ye wanted a spanker that would lead the
field, I'se be caution I would serve ye easy ; for Jamie Jinker
was ne'er the lad to impose upon a gentleman. Ye're a gentle-
man, sir, and should ken a horse's points ; ye see that through-
ganging thing that Balmawhapple's on ; I selled her till him.
She was bred out of Lick-the-Ladle, that wan the king's plate at
Caverton-Edge, by Duke Hamilton's White-foot," etc. etc. etc.

But as Jinker was entered full sail upon the pedigree of
Balmawhapple's mare, having alreadj' got as far as great-grand-
sire and great-grand-dam, and while Waverley was watching
for an opportunity to obtain from him intelligence of more
interest, the noble captain checked his horse until they came
up, and then, without directly appearing to notice Edward, said

* The Judges of the Supreme Court of Session in Scotland are proverb-
ially termed, among the country people, The Fifteen.

t To go out, or to have been out, in Scotland, was a conventional phrase
similar to that of the Irish respecting a man having been up, both having
reference to an individual who had been engaged in insurrection. It was
accounted ill-breeding in Scotland, about forty years since, to use the
phrase rebellion or rebel, which might be interpreted by some of the parties
present as a personal insult. It was also esteemed more polite even for
staunch Wliigs to denominate Charles Edward the Chevalier, than to speak
of him as the Pretender ; and this kind of accommodating courtesy was
usually observed in society where individuals of each party mixed on
friendly terms.

t {^t. Johnstone's Ti2ipet, literally a halter. Perth was formerly known
as St. John's Town, from the name of the Tutelary Saint. In an old poem
by H. Adamson, 1638, there occurs the proverbial saying —
" And in contempt, when any rogue they see,
They say. Saint Johnstone's ribbon's meet for thee."
This proverb, says the editor of Adamson in 1774, is well understood in
Perth and through the shire. It is applied to people who deserve to bp
hanged).

VOL. T. 6

258 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

sternly to the genealogist, "I thought, lieutenant, my orders
were preceese, that no one should speak to the prisoner 1"

The metamorphosed horse-dealer was silenced of course, and
slunk to the rear, where he consoled himself by entering into a
vehement dispute upon the price of hay with a farmer, who had
reluctantly followed his laird to the field, rather than give up
his farm, whereof the lease had just expired. Waverley was
therefore once more consigned to silence, foreseeing that further
attempts at conversation with any of the party would only give
Balmawhapple a wished-for opportunity to display the insolence
of authority, and the sulky spite of a temper naturally dogged,
and rendered more so by habits of low indulgence and the
incense of servile adulation.

In about two hours' time, the party were near the Castle of
Stirling, over whose battlements the union flag was brightened
as it waved in the evening sun. To shorten his journey, or
perhaps to display his importance, and insult the English
garrison, Balmawhapple, inclining to the right, took his route
through the royal park which reaches to and surrounds the
rock upon which the fortress is situated.

With a mind more at ease, Waverley could not have failed
to admire the mixture of romance and beauty which renders
interesting the scene through which he was now passing — the
field which had been the scene of the tournaments of old — the
rock from which the ladies beheld the contest, while each made
vows for the success of some favourite knight — the towers of
the Gothic church, where these vows might be paid — and, sur-
mounting all, the fortress itself, at once a castle and palace,
where valour received the prize from royalty, and knights and
dames closed the evening amid the revelry of the dance, the
song, and the feast. All these were objects fitted to arouse and
interest a romantic imagination.

But Waverley had other objects of meditation, and an
incident soon occurred of a nature to disturb meditation of any
kind. Balmawhapple, in the pride of his heart, as he wheeled
his little body of cavalry round the base of the castle, com-
manded his trumpet to sound a flourish, and his standard to be
displayed. This insult produced apparently some sensation;
for when the cavalcade was at such distance from the southern
battery as to admit of a gim being depressed so as to bear upon
them, a flash of fire issued from one of the embrasures upon the

WAVERLET. 259

rook ; and ere the report with which it was attended could be
heard, the rushing sound of a cannon-ball passed over Balma-
whapple's head, and the bullet, burying itself in the ground at a
few yards' distance, covered him with the earth which it drove
up. There was no need to bid the party trudge. In fact, every
man, acting upon the impulse of the moment, soon brouglit
Mr. Jinker's steeds to show their mettle, and the cavaliers,
retreating with more speed than regularity, never took to a
trot, as the lieutenant afterwards observed, until an intervening
eminence had secured them from any repetition of so undesirable
a compliment on the part of Stirling Castle. I must do Balma-
whapple, however, the justice to say, that he not only kept the
rear of his troop, and laboured to maintain some order among
them, but, in the height of his gallantry, answered the fire of
the castle by discharging one of his horse-pistols at the battle-
ments ; although, the distance being nearly half-a-mile, I could
never learn that this measure of retaliation was attended with
any particular effect.

The travellers now passed the memorable field of Bannock-
bum, and reached the Torwood — a place glorious or terrible to
the recollections of the Scottish peasant, as the feats of Wallace,
or the cruelties of Wude Willie Grime, predominate in his
recollection. At Falkirk, a town formerly famous in Scottish
history, and soon to be again distinguished as the scene of
military events of importance, Balmawhapple proposed to halt
and repose for the evening. This was performed with very little
regard to military discipline, his worthy quarter-master being
chiefly solicitous to discover where the best brandy might be
come at. Sentinels were deemed unnecessary, and the only
vigils performed were those of such of the party as could pro-
cure liquor. A few resolute men might easily have cut ofi" the
detachment ; but of the inhabitants some were favourable, many
indifferent, and the rest overawed. So nothing memorable
occurred in the course of the evening, except that Waverley's
rest was sorely interrupted by the revellers hallooing forth their
Jacobite songs without remorse or mitigation of voice.

Early in the morning they were again mounted, and on
the road to Edinburgh, though the pallid visages of some of
the troop betrayed that they had spent a night of sleepless
debauchery. They halted at Linlithgow, distinguished by its
ancient palace, which, Sixty Years since, was entire and habit-

260

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

able, and whose venerable ruins, not quite Sixty Years sinc&f
very narrowly escaped the unworthy fate of being converted
into a baiTack for French prisoners. May repose and blessings
attend the ashes of the patriotic statesman* who, amongst his
last services to Scotland, interposed to prevent this profanation !

As they approached the metropolis of Scotland, through a
champaign and cultivated country, the sounds of war began to
be heard. The distant, yet distinct report of heavy cannon,
fired at intervals, apprized Waverley that the work of destruc-
tion was going forward. Even Balmawhapple seemed moved
to take some precautions, by sending an advanced party in front
of his troop, keeping the main body in tolerable order, and
moving steadily forward.

Marching in this manner they speedily reached an eminence,
from which they could view Edinburgh stretching along the
ridgy hill which slopes eastward from the Castle. The latter,
being in a state of siege, or rather of blockade, by the northern
insurgents, who had already occupied the town for two or three
days, fired at intervals upon such parties of Highlanders as
exposed themselves, either on the main street, or elsewhere in
the vicinity of the fortress. The morning being calm and fair,
the effect of this dropping fire was to invest the Castle in
wreaths of smoke, the edges of which dissipated slowly in the
air, while the central veil was darkened ever and anon by fresh
clouds poured forth from the battlements ; the whole giving, by
the partial concealment, an appearance of grandeur and gloom,
rendered more terrific when Waverley reflected on the cause by
which it was produced, and that each explosion might ring
some brave man's knell.

Ere they approached the city, the partial cannonade had
wholly ceased. Balmawhapple, however, having in his recol-
lection the unfriendly greeting which his troop had received
from the battery of Stirling, had apparently no wish to tempt
the forbearance of the artillery of the Castle. He therefore left
the direct road, and sweeping considerably to the southward, so
as to keep out of the range of the cannon, approached the
ancient palace of Hol3n:ood, without having entered the walls of
the city. He then drew up his men in front of that venerable
pile, and delivered Waverley to the custody of a guard of
Highlanders, whose officer conducted hinn into the interior of
the building.

* ' Lord President Blair, )

WAVERLEY. 261

A long, low, and ill-proportioned gallery, hung with pictures,
allirmed to be the portraits of kings, who, if they ever flourished
at all, lived several hundred years before the invention of
painting in oil colours, served as a sort of guard-chamber, or
vestibule, to the apartments which the adventurous Charles
Edward now occupied in the palace of his ancestors. Officers,
both in the Highland and Lowland garb, passed and repassed
in haste, or loitered in the hall, as if waiting for orders. Secre-
taries were engaged in making out passes, musters, and returns.
All seemed busy, and earnestly intent upon something of im-
portance ; but Waverley was suffered to remain seated in the
recess of a window unnoticed by any one, in anxious reflec-
tion upon the crisis of his fate, which seemed now rapidly
approaching.

CHAPTER FORTIETH.

A.N OLD AND A NEW ACQUAINTANCE.

While he was deep sunk in his reverie, the rustle of tartans
was heard behind him, a friendly arm clasped his shoulders,
and a friendly voice exclaimed,

" Said the Highland prophet sooth 1 — or must second-sight
go for nothing?"

Waverley turned, and was warmly embraced by Fergus Mac-
Ivor. " A thousand welcomes to Holyrood, once more possessed
by her legitimate sovereign 1 Did I not say we should prosper,
and that you would fall into the hands of the Philistines if you
parted from us?"

"Dear Fergus !" said Waverley, eagerly returning his greet-
ing, " it is long since I have heard a friend's voice. Where is
Flora?"

" Safe, and a triimiphant spectator of our success."

"In this place?" said Waverley.

" Ay, in this city at least," answered his friend, " and you
shall see her ; but first you must meet a friend whom you little
think of, who has been frequent in his inqumes after you."

Thus saying, he dragged Waverley by the arm out of the
guard-chamber, and, ere he knew where he was conducted.

262

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Edward found himself in a presence-room, fitted up with some
attempt at royal state.

A young man, wearing his own fair hair, distinguished by
the dignity of his mien and the noble expression of his well-
formed and regular features, advanced out of a circle of military
gentlemen and Highland Chiefs, by whom he was surrounded.
In his easy and graceful manners Waverley afterwards thought
he could have discovered his high birth and rank, although the
star on his breast, and the embroidered garter at his knee, had
not appeared as its indications.

"Let me present to your Royal Highness," said Fergus,
bowing profoundly

*' The descendant of one of the most ancient and loyal families
in England," said the young Chevalier, intemipting him. " I
beg your pardon for interrupting you, my dear Mac-Ivor ; but
no master of ceremonies is necessary to present a Waverley to a
Stuart."

Thus saying, he extended his hand to Edward with the
utmost courtesy, who could not, had he desired it, have avoided
rendering him the homage which seemed due to his rank, and
was certainly the right of his birth. " I am sorry to understand,
Mr. Waverley, that, owing to circumstances which have been
as yet but ill explained, you have suffered some restraint
among my followers in Perthshire, and on your march here ;
but we are in such a situation that we hardly know our friends,
and I am even at this moment uncertain whether I can have the
pleasure of considering Mr. Waverley as among mine."

He then paused for an instant ; but before Edward could adjust
a suitable reply, or even arrange his ideas as to its purport, the
Prince took out a paper, and then proceeded : — " I should
indeed have no doubts upon this subject, if I could trust to
this proclamation, set forth by the friends of the Elector of
Hanover, in which they rank Mr. Waverley among the nobility
and gentry who are menaced with the pains of high treason for
loyalty to their legitimate sovereign. But I desire to gain no
adherents save from affection and conviction ; and if Mr.
Waverley inclines to prosecute his journey to the south, or to
join the forces of the Elector, he shall have my passport and
free permission to do so ; and I can only regTet, that my present
power will not extend to protect him against the probable con-
sequences of such a measure. — But," continued Chaiies Edward,

WAVERLEY. 263

after another short pause, " if Mr. Waverley should, like his
ancestor. Sir Nigel, determine to embrace a cause which has
little to recommend it but its justice, and follow a prince who
throws himself upon the affections of his people, to recover the
throne of his ancestors or perish in the attempt, I can only
say, that among these nobles and gentlemen he will find worthy
associates in a gallant enterprise, and will follow a master who
may be unfortunate, but, I trust, will never be imgrateful."

The politic Chieftain of the race of Ivor knew his advantage
in introducing Waverley to this personal interview with the
royal Adventurer. Unaccustomed to the address and manners
of a polished court, in which Charles was eminently skilful, his
words and his kindness penetrated the heart of our hero, and
easily outweighed all prudential motives. To be thus personally
solicited for assistance by a Prince, whose form and manners,
as well as the spirit which he displayed in this singular enter-
prise, answered his ideas of a hero of romance ; to be courted
by him in the ancient halls of his paternal palace, recovered by
the sword which he was already bending towards other conquests,
gave Edward, in his own eyes, the dignity and importance which
he had ceased to consider as his attributes. Rejected, slandered,
and threatened upon the one side, he was irresistibly attracted
to the cause which the prejudices of education, and the political
principles of his family, had already recommended as the most
just. These thoughts rushed through his mind like a torrent,
sweeping before them every consideration of an opposite tendency,
— the time, besides, admitted of no deliberation, — and Waverley,
kneeling to Charles Edward, devoted his heart and sword to the
vindication of his rights !

The Prince (for, although unfortunate in the faults and follies
of his forefathers, we shall here, and elsewhere, give him the
title due to his birth) raised Waverley from the ground, and
embraced him with an expression of thanks too warm not to be
genuine. He also thanked Fergus Mac-Ivor repeatedly for
having brought him such an adherent, and presented Waverley
to the various noblemen, chieftains, and ofiicers who were about
his person, as a young gentleman of the highest hopes and
prospects, in whose bold and enthusiastic avowal of his cause
they might see an evidence of the sentiments of the English
families of rank at this important crisis.* Indeed, this was a
* Note R. Jacobite Sentimenta,

^64 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

point much doubted among the adherents of the house of Stuart ;
and as a well-founded disbelief in the co-operation of the English
Jacobites kept many Scottish men of rank from his standard,
and diminished the courage of those who had joined it, nothing
could be more seasonable for the Chevalier than the open
declaration in his favour of the representative of the house of
Waverley-Honour, so long known as cavaliers and royalists.
This Fergus had foreseen from the beginning. He really loved
Waverley, because their feelings and projects never thwarted
each other ; he hoped to see him united with Flora, and he
rejoiced that they were effectually engaged in the same cause.
But, as we before hinted, he also exulted as a politician in
beholding secured to his party a partisan of such consequence ;
and he was far from being insensible to the personal importance
which he himself gained with the Prince, from having so
materially assisted in making the acquisition.

Charles Edward, on his part, seemed eager to show his
attendants the value which he attached to his new adherent, by
entering immediately, as in confidence, upon the circumstances
of his situation. "You have been secluded so much from
intelligence, Mr. Waverley, from causes of which I am but
indistinctly informed, that I presume you are even yet unac-
quainted with the important particulars of my present situation.
You have, however, heard of my landing in the remote district
of Moidart, with only seven attendants, and of the numerous
chiefs and clans whose loyal enthusiasm at once placed a solitary
adventurer at the head of a gallant army. You must also, I
think, have learned, that the Commander-in-chief of the Hano-
verian Elector, Sir John Cope, marched into the Highlands at
the head of a numerous and well-appointed military force, with
the intention of giving us battle, but that his courage failed
him when we were within three hours' march of each other, so
that he fairly gave us the slip, and marched northward to
Aberdeen, leaving the Low Country open and imdefended. Not
to lose so favourable an opportunity, I marched on to this
metropolis, driving before me two regiments of horse, Gardiner's
and Hamilton's, who had threatened to cut to pieces every
Highlander that should venture to pass Stirling; and while
discussions were carrying forward among the magistracy and
citizens of Edinburgh, whether they should defend themselves
or surrender, my good friend Lochiel (laying his hand on the

WAVERLEY. 2bO

shoulder of that gallant and accomplished chieftain) saved them
the trouble of farther deliberation, by entering the gates with
five hundred Camerons. Thus far, therefore, v/e have done
well; but, in the meanwhile, this doughty general's nerves
being braced by the keen air of Aberdeen, he has taken shipping
for Dunbar, and I have just received certain information that
he landed there yesterday. His pui'pose must unquestionably
be to march towards us to recover possession of the capital.
Now, there are two opinions in my council of war : one, that
being inferior probably in numbers, and certainly in discipline
and military appointments, not to mention our total want of
artillery, and the weakness of our cavalry, it will be safest to
fall back towards the mountains, and there protract the war,
until fresh succours arrive from France, and the whole body of
the Highland clans shall have taken arms in our favour. The
opposite opinion maintains, that a retrograde movement, in our
circumstance, is certain to throw utter discredit on our arms
and undertaking ; and, far from gaining us new partisans, will
be the means of disheartening those who have joined our
standard. The officers who used these last arguments, among
whom is your friend Fergus Mac-Ivor, maintain that if the
Highlanders are strangers to the usual military discipline of
Europe, the soldiers whom they are to encounter are no less
strangers to their peculiar and formidable mode of attack : that
the attachment and courage of the chiefs and gentlemen are not
to be doubted ; and that as they will be in the midst of the
enemy, their clansmen will as surely follow them ; in fine, that
having drawn the sword, we should throw away the scabbard,
and trust our cause to battle, and to the God of Battles. Will
Mr. Waverley favour us with his opinion in these arduous
circumstances'?"

Waverley coloured high betwixt pleasure and modesty at the
distinction implied in this question, and answered, with equal
spirit and readiness, that he could not venture to offer an opinion
as derived from military skill, but that the council would be far
the most acceptable to him which should first afford him an
opportunity to evince his zeal in his Royal Highness's service.

" Spoken like a Waverley !" answered Charles Edward ; " and
that you may hold a rank in some degree corresponding to your
name, allow me, instead of the captain's commission which you
have lost, to ofier you the brevet rank of major in my service.

266 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

with the advantage of acting as one of my aides-de-camp until
you can be attached to a regiment, of which I hope several will
be speedily embodied."

" Your Royal Highness will forgive me," answered Waverley
(for his recollection turned to Balmawhapple and his scanty
troop), " if I decline accepting any rank until the time and place
where I may have interest enough to raise a suflficient body of
men to make my command useful to your Koyal Highness's
service. In the meanwhile, I hope for your permission to serve
as a volunteer under my friend Fergus Mac-Ivor."

" At least," said the Prince, who was obviously pleased with
this proposal, " allow me the pleasure of arming you after the
Highland fashion." With these words, he unbuckled the broad-
sword which he wore, the belt of which was plated with silver,
and the steel basket hilt richly and curiously inlaid. "The
blade," said the Prince, " is a genuine Andrea Ferrara ; it has
been a sort of heir-loom in our family ; but I am convinced I
put it into better hands than my own, and will add to it pistols
of the same workmanship. — Colonel Mac-Ivor, you must have
much to say to your friend ; I will detain you no longer from
your private conversation ; but remember we expect you both
to attend us in the evening. It may be perhaps the last night
we may enjoy in these halls, and as we go to the field with a
clear conscience, we will spend the eve of battle merrily."

Thus licensed, the chief and "Waverley left the presence-
chamber.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIRST.

THE MYSTERY BEGINS TO BE CLEARED UP.

" How do you like him ?" was Fergus's first question, as they
descended the large stone staircase.

" A prince to live and die under," was Waverley's enthusiastic
answer.

"I knew you would think so when you saw him, and J

intended you should have met earlier, but was prevented by your

sprain. And yet he has his foibles, or rather he has difiicult

cards to play, and his Irish officers,* who are much about him

* Note S. Irisli officers.

WAVERLEY. 267

are but sorry advisers, — they cannot discriminate among tlie
numerous pretensions that are set up. Would you think it, —
I have been obliged for the present to suppress an earl's patent,
granted for services rendered ten years ago, for fear of exciting

the jealousy, forsooth, of C and M . But you were very

right, Edward, to refuse the situation of aide-de-camp. There
are two vacant, indeed, but Clanronald and Lochiel, and almost
all of us, have requested one for young Aberchallader, and the
Lowlanders and the Irish party are equally desirous to have the
other for the master of F . Now, if either of these candi-
dates were to be superseded in your favour, you would make
enemies. And then I am surprised that the Prince should have
offered you a majority, when he knows very well that nothing
short of lieutenant-colonel will satisfy others, who cannot bring
one hundred and fifty men to the field. ' But patience, cousin,
and shuffle the cards !' It is all very well for the present, and
we must have you regularly equipped for the evening in your
new costume ; for, to say the truth, your outward man is scarce
fit for a com't."

"Why," said Waverley, looking at his soiled dress, "my
shooting-jacket has seen service since we parted ; but that, pro-
bably, you, my friend, know as well or better than I."

"You do my second-sight too much honour," said Fergus.
" We were so busy, first with the scheme of giving battle to
Cope, and afterwards with our operations in the Lowlands, that
I could only give general directions to such of our people as
were left in Perthshire to respect and protect you, should you
come in their way. But let me hear the full story of your
adventures, for they have reached us in a very partial and
mutilated manner."

Waverley then detailed at length the circumstances with
which the reader is already acquainted, to which Fergus listened
with great attention. By this time they had reached the door
of his quarters, which he had taken up in a small paved court,
retiring from the street called the Canongate, at the house of a
buxom widow of forty, who seemed to smile very graciously
upon the handsome young chief, she being a person with whom
good looks and good humour were sure to secure an interest,
whatever might be the party's political opinions. Here Galium
Beg received them with a smile of recognition. " Galium," said
the Ghief, " call Shemus an Snachad " C James of the Needle).

268

WAVEKLEY NOVELS

This was the hereditary tailor of Yich Ian Vohr. " Shemus,
Mr. Waverley is to wear the cath dath (battle colour, or tartan) ,
his trews must be ready in four hours. You know the measure of
a well-made man : two double nails to the small of the leg "

" Eleven from haunch to heel, seven round the waist — I give
your honour leave to hang Shemus, if there's a pair of sheers in
the Highlands that has a baulder sneck than her's ain at the
cumadh an truais " (shape of the trews).

" Get a plaid of Mac-Ivor tartan, and sash," continued the
Chieftain, "and a blue bonnet of the Prince's pattern, at Mr.
Mouat's in the Crames, My short green coat, with silver lace
and silver buttons, will fit him exactly, and I have never worn
it. Tell Ensign Maccombich to pick out a handsome target
from among mine. The prince has given Mr. Waverley broad-
sword and pistols, I will furnish him with a dirk and purse ;
add but a pair of low heeled shoes, and then my dear Edward
(turning to him) you will be a complete son of Ivor."

These necessary directions given, the Chieftain resumed the
subject of Waverley's adventures. '' It is plain," he said, " that
you have been in the custody of Donald Bean Lean. You must
know, that when I marched away my clan to join the Prince,
I laid my injunctions on that worthy member of society to
perform a certain piece of service, which done, he was to join
me with all the force he could muster. But instead of doing
so, the gentleman, finding the coast clear, thought it better to
make war on his own account, and has scoured the country,
plundering, I believe, both friend and foe, under pretence of
levying black mail, sometimes as if by my authority, and some-
times (and be cursed to his consummate impudence) in his own
great name ! Upon my honour, if I live to see the cairn of
Benmore again, I shall be tempted to hang that fellow ! I
recognise his hand particularly in the mode of your rescue from
that canting rascal Gilfillan, and I have little doubt that Donald
himself played the part of the pedlar on that occasion ; but how
he should not have plundered you, or put you to ransom, or
availed himself in some way or other of your captivity for liis
own advantage, passes my judgment."

" When and how did you hear the intelligence of my con-
finement ?" asked Waverley.

" The prince himself told me," said Fergus, " and inquired
very minutely into your liistory. He then mentioned your

WAVERLEY. 269

bemg at that moment in the power of one of our northern
parties — you know I could not ask him to explain particulars —
and requested my opinion about disposing of you. I recom-
mended that you should be brought here as a prisoner, because
I did not wish to prejudice you farther with the English
Government, in case you pursued your purpose of going south-
ward. I knew nothing, you must recollect, of the charge
brought against you of aiding and abetting high treason, which,
I presume, had some share in changing your original plan.
That sullen, good-for-nothing brute, Balmawhapple, was sent
to escort you from Doune, with what he calls his troop of horse.
As to his behaviour, in addition to his natural antipathy to
everything that resembles a gentleman, I presume his adventure
with Bradwardine rankles in his recollection, the rather that I
daresay his mode of telling that story contributed to the evil
reports which reached your quondam regiment."

"Very likely," said Waverley; "but now surely, my dear
Fergus, you may find time to tell me something of Flora."

"Why," replied Fergus, "I can only tell you that she is
well, and residing for the present with a relation in this city.
I thought it better she should come here, as since our success
a good many ladies of rank attend our military court ; and I
assure you, that there is a sort of consequence annexed to the
near relative of such a person as Flora Mac-Ivor ; and where
there is such a justling of claims and requests, a man must use
every fair means to enhance his importance."

There was something in this last sentence which grated on
Waverley's feelings. He could not bear that Flora should be
considered as conducing to her brother's preferment, by the
admiration which she must unquestionably attract ; and
although it was in strict correspondence with many points of
Fergus's character, it shocked him as selfish, and unworthy of
his sister's high mind, and his own independent pride. Fergus,
to whom such manoeuvres were familiar, as to one brought up
at the French court, did not observe the unfavourable impression
which he had unwarily made upon his friend's mind, and con-
cluded by saying, " that they could hardly see Flora before the
evening, when she would be at the concert and ball, with which
the Prince's party were to be entertained. She and I had a
quarrel about her not appearing to take leave of you. I am
unwilling to renew it, by soliciting her to receive you this

270

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

morning ; and perhaps ray doing so might not only be ineffectual,
but prevent your meeting this evening."

While thus conversing, Waverley heard in the court, before
the windows of the parlour, a well-known voice. " I aver to
you, my worthy friend," said the speaker, " that it is a total
dereliction of military discipline ; and were you not as it were
a tyro, your purpose would deserve strong reprobation. For a
prisoner of war is on no account to be coerced with fetters, or
detained in ergastulo, as would have been the case had you- put
this gentleman into the pit of the peel-house at Balmawhapple.
I grant, indeed, that such a prisoner may for security be coerced
in career e, that is, in a public prison."

The growling voice of Balmawhapple was heard as taking
leave in displeasure, but the word " land-louper," alone was
distinctly audible. He had disappeared before Waverley reached
the house, in order to greet the worthy Baron of Bradwardine.
The uniform in which he was now attired, a blue coat, namely,
with gold lace, a scarlet waistcoat and breeches, and immense
jack-boots, seemed to have added fresh stiffness and rigidity to
his tall, perpendicular figure ; and the consciousness of military
command and authority had increased, in the same proportion,
the self-importance of his demeanour, and the dogmatism of his
conversation.

He received Waverley with his usual kindness, and expressed
immediate anxiety to hear an explanation of the circumstances
attending the loss of his commission in Gardiner's dragoons;
"not," he said, "that he had the least apprehension of his
young friend having done aught which could merit such un-
generous treatment as he had received from Government, but
because it was right and seemly that the Baron of Bradwardine
should be, in point of trust and in point of power, fully able to
refute all calumnies against the heir of Waverley-Honour, whom
he had so much right to regard as his own son."

Fergus Mac-Ivor, who had now joined them, went hastily
over the circumstances of Waverley's story, and concluded with
the flattering reception he had met from the young Chevalier.
The Baron listened in silence, and at the conclusion shook
Waverley heartily by the hand, and congratulated him upon
entering the service of his lawful Prince. " For," continued he,
"although it has been justly held in all nations a matter of
scandal and dishonour to infringe the sacramentum militare,

WAVERLEY. 27 1

and that whether it was taken by each soldier singly, whilk the
Romans denominated per conjurationem, or by one soldier in
name of the rest, yet no one ever doubted that the allegiance so
sworn was discharged by the dimissio, or discharging of a
soldier, whose case would be as hard as that of colliers, salters,
and other adscripti glebce, or slaves of the soil, were it to be
accounted otherwise. This is something like the brocard
expressed by the learned Sanchez in his work De Jure-jurando,
which you have questionless consulted upon this occasion. As
for those who have calumniated you by leasing-making, I
protest to heaven I think they have justly incurred the penalty
of the Memnonia lex, also called Lex Rhemnia, which is prelected
upon by Tullius in his oration In Verrem. I should have
deemed, however, Mr. Waverley, that before destining yourself
to any special service in the army of the Prince, ye might have
inquired what rank the old Bradwardine held there, and
whether he would not have been peculiarly happy to have had
your services in the regiment of horse which he is now about to
levy."

Edward eluded this reproach by pleading the necessity of
giving an immediate answer to the Prince's proposal, and his
uncertainty at the moment whether his friend the Baron was
with the army, or engaged upon service elsewhere.

This punctilio being settled, Waverley made enquiry after
Miss Bradwardine, and was informed she had come to Edin-
burgh with Flora Mac-Ivor, under guard of a party of the
Chieftain's men. This step was indeed necessary, TuUy-Veolan
having become a very unpleasant, and even dangerous place of
residence for an unprotected young lady, on account of its
vicinity to the Highlands, and also to one or two large villages,
which, from aversion as much to the Caterans as zeal for
presbytery, had declared themselves on the side of Government,
and formed irregular bodies of partisans, who had frequent
skirmishes with the mountaineers, and sometimes attacked the
houses of the Jacobite gentry in the braes, or frontier betwixt
the mountain and plain.

" I would propose to you," continued the Baron, " to walk as
far as my quarters in the Luckenbooths, and to admire in your
passage the High Street, whilk is, beyond a shadow of dubitation,
finer than any street, whether in London or Paris. But Rose,
poor thing, is sorely discomposed with the firing of the Castle^

2T2

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

though I have proved to her from Bloudel and Coehom, that it
is impossible a bullet can reach these buildings ; and, besides, I
have it in charge from his Royal Highness to go to the camp, or
leaguer of our army, to see that the men do conclamare vasa,
that is, truss up their bag and baggage for to-morrow's march."

"That will be easily done by most of us," said Mac- Ivor,
laughing.

" Craving your pardon, Colonel Mac-Ivor, not quite so easily
as ye seem to opine. I grant most of yoiu* folk left the High-
lands, expedited as it were, and free from the encumbrance of
baggage ; but it is unspeakable the quantity of useless sprechery
which they have collected on their march. I saw one fellow of
yours (craving your pardon once more) with a pier-glass upon
his back."

"Ay," said Fergus," still in good humour, "he would have
told you, if you had questioned him, a gangiiuj foot is aye
getting. — But come, my dear Baron, you know as well as I, that
a hundred Uhlans, or a single troop of Schmirschitz's Pandours,
would make more havoc in a country than the knight of the
mirror and all the rest of our clans put together."

" And that is very true likewise," replied the Baron ; " they
are, as the heathen author says, ferociores in aspectu, mitiores,
in actu, of a horrid and grim visage, but more benign in
demeanour than their physiognomy or aspect might infer. —
But I stand here talking to you two youngsters, when I should
be in the King's Park."

" But you will dine with Waverley and me on your return ?
I assure you, Baron, though I can live like a Highlander when
needs must, I remember my Paris education, and understand
perfectly faire la meilleure ch^re.

" And wha the deil doubts it," quoth the Baron, laughing,
"when ye bring only the cookery, and the gude toun must
furnish the materials "? — Weel, I have some business in the toun
too : but I'll join you at three, if the vivers can tarry so long."

So saying, he took leave of his friends, and went to look
after the charge which had been assigned him.

WAVERLEY. 273

CHAPTER FORTY-SECOND.

A soldier's dinner.

James of the Needle was a man of his word, when whisky was
no party to the contract ; and upon this occasion Callum Beg,
who still thought himself in Waverley's debt, since he had
declined accepting compensation at the expense of mine Host
of the Candlestick's person, took the opportunity of discharging
the obligation, by mounting guard over the hereditary tailor of
Sliochd nan Ivor; and, as he expressed himself, "targed him
tightly," till the finishing of the job. To rid himself of this
restraint, Shemus's needle flew through the tartan like light-
ning ; and as the artist kept chanting some dreadful skirmish
of Fin Macoul, he accomplished at least three stitches to the
death of every hero. The dress was, therefore, soon ready, for
the short coat fitted the wearer, and the rest of the apparel
required little adjustment.

Our hero having now fairly assumed the " garb of Old Gaul,"
well calculated as it was to give an appearance of strength to
a figiu-e, which, though tall and well-made, was rather elegant
than robust, I hope my fair readers will excuse him if he looked
at himself in the mirror more than once, and could not help
acknowledging that the reflection seemed that of a very hand-
some young fellow. In fact, there was no disguising it. His
light-brown hair —for he wore no periwig, notwithstanding
the universal fashion of the time — became the bonnet which
surmounted it. His person promised firmness and agility, to
which the ample folds of the tartan added an air of dignity.
His blue eyes seemed of that kind.

Which melted in love, and which kindled in war ;

and an air of bashfulness, which was in reality the efiect of
want of habitual intercourse with the world, gave interest to
his features, without injuring their grace or intelligence.

" He's a pratty man — a very pratty man," said Evan Dhu
(now Ensign Maccombich) to Fergus's buxom landlady.

•• He's vera weel," said the Widow Flockhart, " but no
naething sae weel-faured as your Colonel, ensign."

" I wasna comparing them," quoth Evan, " nor w;ia I speuk

VOL. I. T

374

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

ing about his being weel-favoured ; but only that Mr. Waverley
looks clean made and deliver, and like a proper lad of his
quarters, that will not cry barley in a brulzie. And, indeed,
he's gleg eneuch at the broadsword and target, I hae played
wi' him mysell at Glennaquoich, and sae has Vich Ian Vohr,
often of a Sunday afternoon."

"Lord forgie ye. Ensign Maccombich," said the alarmed
Presbyterian ; " I'm sure the colonel wad never do the lilce o'
that!"

" Hout ! hout ! Mrs. Flockhart," replied the ensign, " we're
young blude, ye ken ; and young saints, auld deils."

"But will ye fight wi' Sir John Cope the mom. Ensign
Maccombich 'J " demanded Mrs. Flockhart of her guest.

" Troth I'se ensure him, an' he'll bide us, Mrs. Flockhart,"
replied the Gael.

"And will ye face thae tearing chields, the dragoons,
Ensign Maccombich ?" again inquired the landlady.

" Claw for claw as Conan said to Satan, Mrs. Flockhart, and
the deevil tak the shortest nails."

"And wiU the colonel venture on the bagganets himsell?"

" Ye may swear it, Mrs. Flockhart ; the very first man will
he be, by Saint Phedar."

" Merciful goodness ! and if he's killed amang the red-
coats ! " exclaimed the soft-hearted widow.

" Troth, if it should sae befall, Mrs. Flockhart, I ken ane
that will no be living to weep for him. But we maun a' live
the day, and have our dinner ; and there's Vich Ian Vohr has
packed his dor lack, and Mr. Waverley 's wearied wi' majoring
yonder afore the muckle pier-glass ; and that grey auld stoor
carle, the Baron o' Bradwardine, that shot young Ronald of
Ballenkeiroch, he's coming down the close wi' that droghling
coghling bailie body they ca' Macwhupple, just like the Laird
o' Kittlegab's French cook, wi' his turnspit doggie trindling
ahint him, and I am as hungry as a gled, my bonnie dow ; sae
bid Kate set on the broo', and do ye put on your pinners, for
ye ken Vich Ian Vohr winna sit down till ye be at the head o'
the table ; — and dinna forget the pint bottle o' brandy, my
woman."

This hint produced dinner. Mrs. Flockhart, smiling in her
weeds like the sun through a mist, took the head of the table,
thinking within herself, perhaps, that she cared not how lonj?

WAVERLEY. 275

the rebellion lasted, that brought her into company, so much
above her usual associates. She was supported by Waverley
and the Baron, with the advantage of the Chieftain vis-d-vis
The men of peace and of war, that is. Bailie Macwheeble and
Eu,«tign Maccombich, after many profound conges to their
superiors and each other, took their places on each side of the
Chieftain. Their fare was excellent, time, place, and circum-
stances considered, and Fergus's spirits were extravagantly high.
Regardless of danger, and sanguine from temper, youth, and
ambition, he saw in imagination all his prospects crowned with
success, and was totally indifferent to the probable alternative
of a soldier's grave. The Baron apologised slightly for bringing
Macwheeble. They had been providing, he said, for the ex-
penses of the campaign. "And, by my faith," said the old
man, " as I think this will be my last, so I just end where I
began — I hae evermore found the sinews of war, as a learned
author calls the caisse militaire, mair difficult to come by than
either its flesh, blood, or bones."

" What ! have you raised our only efficient body of cavalry,
and got ye none of the louis-d'or out of the Doutelle,* to help
you?"

" No, Glennaquoich ; cleverer fellows have been before me."

" That's a scandal/' said the young Highlander ; " but you
will share what is left of my subsidy: it will save you an
anxious thought to-night, and will be all one to-morrow, for
we shall all be provided for, one way or other, before the sun
sets." Waverley, blushing deeply, but with great earnestness,
pressed the same request.

" I thank ye baith, my good lads," said the Baron, " but I
will not infringe upon your peculium. Bailie Macwheeble has
provided the sum which is necessary."

Here the Bailie shifted and fidgeted about in his seat, and
appeared extremely uneasy. At length, after several preli-
minary hems, and much tautological expression of his devotion
to his honour's service, by night or day, living or dead, he began
to insinuate, " that the Banks had removed a' their ready cash
into the Castle ; that, nae doubt, Sandie Goldie, the silversmith,
would do mickle for his honour ; but there was little time to
get the wadset made out ; and, doubtless, if his honour Glen-
naquoich, or Mr. Wauverley, could acconmiodate" —

* The Doulelle was an armed vessel, which brought a small supply of
moDey and arms from Fiance for the use of tlie insurjjentt.

276

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" Let me hear of no such nonsense, sir," said the Baron, in a
tone which rendered Macwheeble mute, "but proceed as we
accorded before dinner, if it be your wish to remain in my
service."

To this peremptory order the Bailie, though he felt as if
condemned to suffer a transfusion of blood from his o^m veins
into those of the Baron, did not presume to make any reply.
After fidgeting a little while longer, however, he addressed him-
self to Glennaquoich, and told him, if his honour had mair
ready siller than was sufficient for his occasions in the field, he
coidd put it out at use for his honour in safe hands, and at
great profit, at this time.

At this proposal Fergus laughed heartily, and answered, when
he had recovered his breath, — " Many thanks, Bailie ; but you
must know it is a general custom among us soldiers to make
our landlady our banker. — Here, Mrs. Flockhart," said he,
taking four or five broad pieces out of a well-filled purse, and
tossing the purse itself, with its remaining contents, into her
apron, " these will serve my occasions ; do you take the rest :
be my banker if I live, and my executor if I die ; but take care
to give something to the Highland cailliachs * that shall ciy the
coronach loudest for the last Vich Ian Vohr."

" It is the testamentum militm-e," quoth the Baron, " whilk,
amang the Komans, was privilegiate to be nuncupative." But
the soft heart of Mrs. Flockhart was melted within her at the
Chieftain's speech; she set up a lamentable blubbering, and
positively refused to touch the bequest, which Fergus was there-
fore obliged to resume.

" WeU then," said the Chief, " if I faU, it wiU go to the
grenadier that knocks my brains out, and I shall take cai-e he
works hard for it."

Bailie Macwheeble was again tempted to put in his oar ; for
where cash was concerned, he did not willingly remain silent.
" Perhaps he had better carry the gowd to Miss Mac-Ivor, ir
case of mortality, or accidents, of war. It might tak the form
of a mortis causa donation in the young leddie's favour, and wad
cost but the scrape of a pen to mak it out."

"The young lady," said Fergus, "should such an event
happen, will have other matters to think of than these wretched
louis-d'or."

* Old women, on whom rlevolved the duty of lamentiug for the aead
T^hich the Irish call keenitm-

WAVERLEY. 277

''True — undeniable — there's nae doubt o'that; but ymir
honour kens that a full sorrow"

" Is endurable by most folk more easily than a hungry one?
— True, Bailie, very true; and I believe there may even be
some who would be consoled by such a reflection for the loss of
the whole existing generation. But there is a sorrow which

knows neither hunger nor thirst; and poor Flora" He

paused, and the whole company sympathized in his emotion.

The Baron's thoughts naturally reverted to the unprotected
state of his daughter, and the big tear came to the veteran's
eye. "If I fall, Macwheeble; you have all my papers, and
know all my affairs ; be just to Rose."

The Bailie was a man of earthly mould after all ; a good deal
of dirt and dross about him, undoubtedly, but some kindly and
just feelings he had, especially where the Baron or his young
mistress were concerned. He set up a lamentable howl. " If
that doleful day should come, while Duncan Macwheeble had
a boddle, it should be Miss Rose's. He wald scroll for a plack
the sheet, or she kenn'd what it was to want ; if indeed a' the
bonnie baronie o' Bradwardine and Tully-Veolan, with the
fortalice and manor-place thereof (he kept sobbing and whining
at every pause), tofts, crofts, mosses, muirs — outfield, infield —
buildings — orchards — dovecots — with the right of net and coble
in the water and loch of Veolan — teinds, parsonage and vicarage
— annexis, connexis — rights of pasturage — fuel, feal, and divot
— parts, pendicles, and pertinents whatsoever — (here he had
recourse to the end of his long cravat to wipe his eyes, which
overflowed in spite of him, at the ideas which this technical
jargon conjured up) — all as more fully described in the proper
evidents and titles thereof — and lying within the parish of
Bradwardine, and the shire of Perth — if, as aforesaid, they
must a' pass from my master's child to Inch-Grabbit, wha's a
Whig and a Hanoverian, and be managed by his doer, Jamie
Howie, wha's no fit to be a birlieman, let be a bailie" —

The beginning of this lamentation really had something
affecting, but the conclusion rendered laughter irresistible.
"Never mind, Bailie," said Ensign Maccombich, "for the gude
auld times of rugging and riving (pulling and tearing) are come
back again, an' Sneckus Mac-Snackus (meaning, probably,
annexis, connexis), and a' the rest of your friends, maun gie
place to the langest claymore."

'M

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

•' And that claymore shall be ours, Bailie," said the Chief-
tain, who saw that Macwheeble looked very blank at this
intimation,

" "We'll give them the metal our mountain affords,

Lillibulero, buUen a la,
And in place of broad-pieces we'll pay with broadswords,

Lero, lero, etc.
With duns and with debts we will soon clear our score,

Lillibulero, etc.
For the man that's thus paid will crave payment no more,

Lero, lero, etc.*

But come, Bailie, be not cast down ; drink your wine with a
joyous heart; the Baron shall return safe and victorious to
Tully-Veolan, and unite Killancureit's lairdship with his own,
since the cowardly half-bred swine will not turn out for the
Prince like a gentleman."

"To be sure, they lie maist ewest,"t said the Bailie, wiping
his eyes, "and should naturally fa' under the same factory."

" And I," proceeded the Chieftain, " shall take care of myself,
too ; for you must know, I have to complete a good work here,
by bringing Mrs. Flockhart into the bosom of the Catholic
church, or at least half way, and that is to your Episcopal
meeting-house. 0 Baron ! if you heard her fine counter-tenor
admonishing Kate and Matty in the morning, you, who under-
stand music, would tremble at the idea of hearing her shriek
in the psalmody of Haddo's Hole."

" Lord forgie you, colonel, how ye rin on ! But I hope your
honours will tak tea before ye gang to the palace, and I maun
gang, and mask it for you."

So saying, Mrs. Flockhart left the gentlemen to their own
conversation, which, as might be supposed, turned chiefly upon
the approaching events of the campaign.

* These hues, or something like them, occur in an old Magazine of tho
period.

+ t.«., Contiguoiis.

WAVERLEY. 379

CHAPTER FORTY-THIRD.

THE BALL.

Ensign Maccombich liaving gone to the Highland camp upon
duty, and Bailie Macwheeble having retired to digest his dinner
and Evan Dhu's intimation of martial law in some blind change-
house, Waverley, with the Baron and the Chieftain, proceeded
to Holyi'ood House. The two last were in full tide of spirits,
and the Baron rallied in his way our hero upon the handsome
figure which his new dress displayed to advantage. " If you
have any design upon the heart of a bonny Scotch lassie, I
would premonish you when you address her, to remember and
quote the words of Virgilius : —

Nunc insauus amor duri me Martis in armis,
Tela inter media atque adversos detinet liostes ;

whilk verses Robertson of Struan, Chief of the Clan Donnochy
(unless the claims of Lude ought to be preferred primo loco)^
has thus elegantly rendered : —

For cruel love has gartan'd low my leg,
And clad my hurdles in a philabeg.

Although, indeed, ye wear the trews, a garment whilk I approve
maist of the twa, as mair ancient and seemly."
" Or rather," said Fergus, " hear my song :

She wadna hae a Lowland laird,

Nor be an English lady ;
But she's away with Duncan Graeme,

And he's rowed her in his plaidy."

By this time they reached the palace of Holyrood, and were
annoimced respectively as they entered the apartments.

It is but too well known how many gentlemen of rank,
education, and fortune, took a concern in the ill-fated and
desperate undertaking of 1745. The ladies, also, of Scotland
very generally espoused the cause of the gallant and handsome
young Prince, who threw himself upon the mercy of his country-
men, rather like a hero of romance than a calculating politician.
It is not, therefore, to be wondered that Edward, who had spent
the greater part of his life in the solemn seclusion of Waverley

280 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Honour, should have been dazzled at the liveliness and elegance
of the scene now exhibited in the long-deserted halls of the
Scottish palace. The accompaniments, indeed, fell short of
splendour, being such as the confusion and hurry of the time
admitted ; still, however, the general effect was striking, and the
rank of the company considered, might well be called brilliant.

It was not long before the lover's eye discovered the object of
his attachment. Flora Mac-Ivor was in the act of returning ta
her seat, near the top of the room, with Rose Bradwardine by
her side. Among much elegance and beauty, they had attracted
a great degree of the public attention, being certainly two of the
handsomest women present. The Prince took much notice of
both, particularly of Flora, with whom he danced ; a preference
which she probably owed to her foreign education and command
of the French and Italian languages.

When the bustle attending the conclusion of the dance per-
mitted, Edward, almost intuitively, followed Fergus to the place
where Miss Mac-Ivor was seated. The sensation of hope with
which he had nursed his affection in absence of the beloved
object seemed to vanish in her presence, and, like one striving
to recover the particulars of a forgotten dream, he would have
given the world at that moment to have recollected the grounds
on which he had founded expectations which now seemed so
delusive. He accompanied Fergus with downcast eyes, tingling
ears, and the feelings of the criminal, who, while the melancholy
cart moves slowly through the crowds that have assembled to
behold his execution, receives no clear sensation either from the
noise which fills his ears, or the tumult on which he casts his
wandering look.

Flora seemed a little — a very little — affected and discomposed
at his approach. " I bring you an adopted son of Ivor," said
Fergus.

" And I receive him as a second brother," replied Flora.

There was a slight emphasis on the word, which would have
escaped every ear but one that was feverish with apprehension.
It was, however, distinctly marked, and, combined with her
whole tone and manner, plainly intimated, " I will never think
of Mr. Waverley as a more intimate connexion." Edward
stopped, bowed, and looked at Fergus, who bit his lip ; a move-
ment of anger, which proved that he also had put a sinister
interpretation on the reception which his sister had giver his

WAVERLEY. 281

friend. " This then is an end of my day-dream !" Such waa
Waverley's first thought, and it was so exquisitely painful aa to
banish from his cheek every drop of blood.

"Good God!" said Rose Bradwardine, "he is not yet re-
covered ! "

These words, which she uttered with great emotion, were
overheard by the Chevalier himself, who stepped hastily forward,
and taking Waverley by the hand, inquired kindly after his
health, and added, that he wished to speak with him. By a
strong and sudden effort, which the circumstances rendered in-
dispensable, Waverley recovered himself so far as to follow the
Chevalier in silence to a recess in the apartment.

Here the Prince detained him some time, asking various
questions about the great Tory and Catholic families of England,
their connexions, their influence, and the state of their afi'ections
towards the house of Stuart. To these queries Edward could
not at any time have given more than general answers, and it
may be supposed that, in the present state of his feelings, his
responses were indistinct, even to confusion. The Chevalier
smiled once or twice at the incongruity of his replies, but con-
tinued the same style of conversation, although he found himself
obliged to occupy the principal share of it, until he perceived
that Waverley had recovered his presence of mind. It is pro-
bable that this long audience was partly meant to further the
idea which the Prince desired should be entertained among his
followers, that Waverley was a character of political influence.
But it appeared from his concluding expressions, that he had a
different and good-natured motive, personal to our hero, for
prolonging the conference. " I cannot resist the temptation,"
he said, " of boasting of my own discretion as a lady's confidant.
You see, Mr. Waverley, that I know all, and I assure you 1
am deeply interested in the affair. But, my good young friend,
you must put a more severe restraint upon your feelings. There
are many here whose eyes can see as clearly as mine, but the
prudence of whose tongues may not be equally trusted,"

So saying, he turned easily away, and joined a circle of
officers at a few paces' distance, leaving Waverley to meditate
upon his parting expression, which, though not intelligible to
him in its whole purport, was sufficiently so in the caution
which the last word recommended. Making, therefore, an effort
to show himself worthy of the interest which his now mast^er

25^^ WAVERLEY NOVELS.

had expressed, by instant obedience to his recommendation, he
walked up to the spot where Flora and Miss Bradwardine were
still seated, and having made his compliments to the latter, he
succeeded, even beyond his own expectation, in entering into
conversation upon general topics.

If, my dear reader, thou hast ever happened to take post-
horses at , or at (one at least of which blanks, or

more probably both, you will be able to fill up from an inn near
your own residence), you must have observed, and doubtless
with sympathetic pain, the reluctant agony with which the poor
jades at first apply their galled necks to the collars of the harness.
But when the irresistible arguments of the post-boy have pre-
vailed upon them to proceed a mile or two, they will become
callous to the first sensation ; and being warm in the harness, as
the said post-boy may term it, proceed as if their withers were
altogether unwrung. This simile so much corresponds with the
state of Waverley's feelings in the coui'se of this memorable
evening, that I prefer it (especially as being, I trust, wliolly
original) to any more splendid illustration, with which Byshe'a
Art of Poetry might supply me.

Exertion, like virtue, is its own reward ; and our hero had,
moreover, other stimulating motives for persevering in a dis-
play of afiected composure and iudifi^erence to Flora's obviou,"?
unkindness. Pride, which supplies its caustic as a useful^
though severe, remedy for the wounds of affection, came rapidly
to his aid. Distinguished by the favour of a prince ; destined,
he had room to hope, to play a conspicuous part in the revokt
tion which awaited a mighty kingdom ; excelling, probably, in
mental acquirements, and equalling, at least, in personal accom-
plishments, most of the noble and distinguished persons with
whom he was now ranked ; yoimg, wealthy, and high-bom —
could he, or ought he to droop beneath the frown of a capricious
beauty 1

O nympli, unrelenting and cold as thou art,
My bosom is proud as thine own.

With the feeling expressed in these beautiful lines (which,
however, were not then written),* Waverley determined upon
convincing Flora that he was not to be depressed by a rejection,
in which his vanity whispered that perhaps she did her own

* They occur in Miss Seward's fine verses, Leginning —
To thy rock, stormy Lannow, adieu.

WAVERLKY. 283

prospects as much injustice as his. And, to aid this change of
feeling, there lurked the secret and unacknowledged hope, that
she might learn to prize his affection more highly, when she did
not conceive it to be altogether within her o^vti choice to attract
or repulse it. There was a mystic tone of encouragement, also,
in the Chevalier's words, though he feared they only referred to
the wishes of Fergus in favour of a union between him and
his sister. But the whole circumstances of time, place, and
incident, combined at once to awaken his imagination, and to
call upon him for a manly and a decisive tone of conduct, leaving
to fate to dispose of the issue. Should he appear to be the only
one sad and disheartened on the eve of battle, how greedily
woidd the tale be commented upon by the slander which had
been already but too busy with his fame? Never, never, he
internally resolved, shall my unprovoked enemies possess such
an advantage over my reputation.

Under the influence of these mixed sensations, and cheered
at times by a smile of intelligence and approbation from the
Prince as he passed the group, Waverley exerted his powers of
fancy, animation, and eloquence, and attracted the general
admiration of the company. The conversation gradually as-
sumed the tone best qualified for the display of his talents and
acquisitions. The gaiety of the evening was exalted in
character, rather than checked, by the approaching dangers of
the morrow. All nerves were strung for the future, and pre-
pared to enjoy the present. This mood of mind is highly
favoiu"able for the exercise of the powers of imagination, for
poetry, and for that eloquence which is allied to poetry.
Waverley, as we have elsewhere observed, possessed at times a
wonderful flow of rhetoric ; and, on the present occasion, he
touched more than once the higher notes of feeling, and then
again ran off in a wild voluntary of fanciful mirth. He was
supported and excited by kindred spirits, who felt the same
impulse of mood and time ; and even those of more cold and
calculating habits were hunied along by the torrent. Many
ladies declined the dance, which still went forward, and, undei
various pretences, joined the party to which the "handsome
young Englishman " seemed to have attached himself. He was
presented to several of the first rank, and his manners, which
for the present were altogether free from the bashful restraint
by which, in a moment of less excitation, they were usually
clouded, gave universal delight.

284

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Flora Mac-Ivor appeared to be the only female present who
regarded hun with a degree of coldness and reserve ; yet even
she could not suppress a sort of wonder at talents, which, in the
course of their acquaintance, she had never seen displayed with
equal brilliancy and impressive effect. I do not know whether
she might not feel a momentary regret at having taken so
decisive a resolution upon the addresses of a lover, who seemed
fitted so well to fill a high place in the highest stations of
society. Certainly she had hitherto accounted among the
incurable deficiencies of Edward's disposition, the mauvaise
honte, which, as she had been educated in the first foreign
circles, and was little acquainted with the shyness of English
manners, was, in her opinion, too nearly related to timidity and
imbecility of disposition. But if a passing wish occurred that
Waverley could have rendered himself uniformly thus amiable
and attractive, its influence was momentary ; for circumstances
had arisen since they met, which rendered, in her eyes, the
resolution she had formed respecting him, final and irrevocable.

With opposite feelings. Rose Bradwardine bent her whole
Boul to listen. She felt a secret triumph at the public tribute
paid to one whose merit she had learned to prize too early and
too fondly. Without a thought of jealousy, without a feeling
of fear, pain, or doubt, and undisturbed by a single selfish con-
sideration, she resigned herself to the pleasure of observing the
general murmur of applause. When Waverley spoke, her ear
was exclusively filled with his voice; when others answered,
her eye took its turn of observation, and seemed to watch
his reply. Perhaps the delight which she experienced in the
course of that evening, though transient, and followed by much
sorrow, was in its nature the most pure and disinterested which
the human mind is capable of enjoying.

" Baron," said the Chevalier, " I would not trust my mistress
in the company of your young firiend. He is really, though
perhaps somewhat romantic, one of the most fascinating young
men whom I have ever seen."

'• And by my honour, sir," replied the Baron, "the lad can
sometimes be as dowff as a sexagenary like myself. If your
Royal Highness had seen him dreaming and dozing about the
banks of Tully-Veolan like an hypochondriac person, or, as
Burton's Anatomia hath it, a phrenesiac or lethargic patient,
you would wonder where he hath sae suddenly acquired all this
fine sprack festivity and jocularity."

WAVERLEY. 286

" Truly," said Fergus Mac-Ivor, " I think it can only be the
inspiration of the tartans ; for, tliough Waverley be always a
young fellow of sense and honour, I have hitherto often found
iiim a very absent and inattentive companion."

" We are the more obliged to him," said the Prince, " for
having reserved for this evening qualities which even such
intimate friends had not discovered. — But come, gentlemen, the
night advances, and the business of to-morrow must be early
thought upon. Each take charge of his fair partner, and honour
a small refreshment with your company."

He led the way to another suite of apartments, and assumed
the seat and canopy at the head of a long range of tables, with
an air of dignity mingled with courtesy, which well became his
high birth and lofty pretensions. An hour had hardly flown
away when the musicians played the signal for parting, so well
known in Scotland.*

" Good-night, then," said the Chevalier, rising ; " Good-night,
and joy be with you ! — Good-night, fair ladies, who have so
highly honom-ed a proscribed and banished Prince. — Good-
night, my brave friends; — may the happiness we have this
evening experienced be an omen of our return to these our
paternal halls, speedily and ui triumph, and of many and many
future meetings of mirth and pleasure in the palace of Holy-
rood !"

When the Baron of Bradwardine afterwards mentioned this
adieu of the Chevalier, he never failed to repeat, in a melancholy
tone,

Audiit, et voti Phoebus succedere partem
Mente dedit ; partem volucres dispersit in auras ;

" which," as he added, " is weel rendered into English metre by
my friend Bangour :

Ae half the prayer, wi' Phoebus grace did find,
I'he t'other half he whistled down the wind. "

* Which is, or waa wont to bo, the old air of "Good nigbt. and joy be wi'
you a* I"

2g$

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOURTH.

THE MAECH.

The conflicting passions and exhausted feelings of Waverley
had resigned him to late but soimd repose. He was dreaming
of Glennaquoich, and had transferred to the halls of Ian nan
Chaistel the festal train which so lately graced those of Holy-
rood. The pibroch too was distinctly heard ; and this at least
was no delusion, for the "proud step of the chief piper" of
the " chlain Mac-Ivor" was perambulating the court before
the door of his Chieftain's quarters, and, as Mrs. Flockhart,
apparently no friend to his minstrelsy, was pleased to observe,
" garring the very stane-and-lime wa's dingle wi' his screeching."
Of course, it soon became too powerful for Waverley's dream,
with which it had at first rather harmonized.

The sound of Callum's brogues in his apartment (for Mac-
Ivor had again assigned Waverley to his care) was the next
Qote of parting. " Winna yer honour bang up 1 Vich Ian Vohr
and ta Prince are awa to the lang green glen ahint the clachan,
tat they ca' the King's Park,* and mony ane's on his ain
shanks the day, that will be carried on ither folk's ere night."

Waverley sprung up, and, with Calliun's assistance and
instructions, adjusted his tartans in proper costume. Callum
told him also, " tat his leather dorlach wi' the lock on her was
come frae Doune, and she was awa again in the wain wi' Vich
Ian Vohr's walise."

By this periphrasis Waverley readily apprehended his port-
manteau was intended. He thought upon the mysterious
packet of the maid of the cavern, which seemed always to
escape him when within his very grasp. But this was no
time for indulgence of curiosity; and having declined Mrs.
Flockhart's compliment of a morning, i.e., a matutinal dram,
being probably the only man in the Chevalier's army by whom
such a courtesy would have been rejected, he made his adieus,
and departed with Callum.

" Callum," said he, as they proceeded down a dirty close to

* The main body of the Highland army encamped, or rather bivouacked,
iu that part of the King's Park which lies towards the village of Dudding
.ston.

I

WAVERLEY. 287

gain the southern skirts of the Cauongate, " what shall I do for
a horse?"

" Ta deil ane ye maun think o'," said Callum. " Vich Ian
Vohr's marching on foot at the head o' his kin (not to say ta
Prince, wha does the like), wi' his target on his shoulder ; and
ye maun e'en be neighbour-like."

" And so I will, Galium — give me my target ; — so, there we
are fixed. How does it look?"

" Like the bra' Highlander tat's painted on the board afore
the mickle change-house they ca' Luckie Middlemass's," answered
Callum ; meaning, I must observe, a high compliment, for, in
his opinion, Luckie Middlemass's sign was an exquisite speci-
men of art. Waverley, however, not feeling the full force of
this polite simile, asked him no farther questions.

Upon extricating themselves from the mean and dirty suburbs
of the metropolis, and emerging into the open air, Waverley
felt a renewal both of health and spirits, and turned his recollec-
tion with firmness upon the events of the preceding evening, and
with hope and resolution towards those of the approaching day.

When he had surmounted a small craggy eminence, called
St. Leonard's Hill, the King's Park, or the hollow between the
mountain of Arthur's Seat, and the rising grounds on which the
southern part of Edinburgh is now built, lay beneath him, and
displayed a singular and animating prospect. It was occupied
by the army of the Highlanders, now in the act of preparing
for their march. Waverley had already seen something of the
kind at the hunting-match which he attended with Fergus Mac-
Ivor ; but this was on a scale of much greater magnitude, and
incomparably deeper interest. The rocks, which formed the
background of the scene, and the very sky itself, rang with the
clang of the bagpipers, summoning forth, each with his appro-
priate pibroch, his chieftain and clan. The mountaineers, rousing
themselves from their couch under the canopy of heaven, with
the hum and bustle of a confused and irregular multitude, like
bees alarmed and arming in their hives, seemed to possess all
the pliability of movement fitted to execute military manoeuvres.
Their motions appeared spontaneous and confused, but the result
was order and regularity ; so that a general must have praised
the conclusion, though a martinet might have ridiculed the
method by which it was attained.

The sort of complicated medley created by the luisty amuige-

28« WAVERLEY NOVELS.

aients of the various clans under their respective banners, for
the purpose of getting into the order of march, was in itself a
gay and lively spectacle. They had no tents to strike, having
generally, and by choice, slept upon the open field, although the
autumn was now waning, and the nights began to be frosty.
For a little space, while they were getting into order, there was
exhibited a changing, fluctuating, and confused appearance of
waving tartans and floating plumes, and of banners displaying
the proud gathering word of Clanronald, Ganion Coheriga
(Gainsay who dares) ; Loch-Sloy, the watchword of the Mac-
Farlanes ; Forth, fortune, and fill the fetters, the motto of the
Marquis of Tullibardine ; Bijdand, that of Lord Lewis Gordon ;
and the appropriate signal words and emblems of many other
chieftains and clans.

At length the mixed and wavering multitude arranged them-
selves into a narrow and dusky column of gi-eat length, stretch-
ing through the whole extent of the valley. In the front oi
the column the standard of the Chevalier was displayed, bearing
a red cross upon a white ground, with the motto Tandem
Triumphans. The few cavalry being chiefly Lowland gentry,
with their domestic servants and retainers, formed the advanced
guard of the army; and their standards, of which they had
rather too many in respect of their numbers, were seen waving
upon the extreme verge of the horizon. Many horsemen of this
body, among whom Waverley accidentally remarked Balma-
whapple, and his lieutenant, Jinker (which last, however, had
been reduced, with several others, by the advice of the Baron
of Bradwardine, to the situation of what he called reformed
cflScers, or reformadoes), added to the liveliness, though by no
means to the regularity, of the scene, by galloping their horses
as fast forward as the press would permit, to join their proper
station in the van. The fascinations of the Circes of the High
Street, and the potations of strength with which they had been
drenched over night, had probably detained these heroes within
the walls of Edinburgh somewhat later than was consistent
with their morning duty. Of such loiterers, the prudent took
the longer and circuitous, but more open route, to attain their
place in the march, by keeping at some distance from the
infantry, and making their way through the enclosures to the
right, at the expense of leaping over or pulling down the dry-
stone fences. The irregidar appearance and vanishing of these

WA.VERLET. 289

smfiU parties of horsemen, as well as tlie confusion occasioned
by those who endeavoured, though generally without effect, to
press to the front through the crowd of Highlanders, maugro
their curses, oaths, and opposition, added to the picturesque
wikhiess what it took from the military regularity of the scene.

\Miile Waverley gazed upon this remarkable spectacle,
rendered yet more impressive by the occasional discharge of
cannon-shot from the Castle at the Highland guards as they
were withdrawn from its vicinity to join their main body,
Galium with his usual freedom of mterference, reminded him
that Vich Ian Vohr's folk were nearly at the head of the column
of march, which was still distant, and that " they would gang
very fast after the cannon fired." Thus admonished, Waverley
walked briskly forward, yet often casting a glance upon the
darksome clouds of warriors who were collected before and
beneath him. A nearer view, indeed rather diminished the
effect impressed on the mind by the more distant appearance
of the army. The leading men of each clan were well armed
with broadsword, target, and fusee, to which all added the dirk,
and most the steel pistol. But these consisted of gentlemen,
that is, relations of the chief, however distant, and who had an
immediate title to his countenance and protection. Finer and
hardier men could not have been selected out of any army in
Christendom; while the free and independent habits which
each possessed, and which each was yet so well taught to sub-
ject to the command of his chief, and the peculiar mode of
discipline adopted in Highland warfare, rendered them equally
formidable by their individual courage and high spirit, and
from their rational conviction of the necessity of acting in
unison, and of giving their national mode of attack the ftdlest
opportunity of success.

But, in a lower rank to these, there were found individuals
of an inferior description, the common peasantry of the Highland
country, who, although they did not allow themselves to be so
called, and claimed often, with apparent truth, to be of more
ancient descent than the masters whom they served, bore,
nevertheless, the livery of extreme peniu-y, being indifferently
accoutred, and worse armed, half-naked, stinted in growth, and
miserable in aspect. Each important clan had some of those
Helots attached to them ; — thus, the Mac-Couls, though tracing
their descent from Comhal, the Father of Finn or Fingal, wero a
VOL. I. V

290

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Bort of Gibeonites, or hereditary servants to the Stewarts of
Appin ; the Macbeths, descended from the unhappy monarch of
that name, were subjects to the Morays, and clan Donnochy, or
Robertsons of Athole; and many other examples might be
given, were it not for the risk of hurting any pride of clanship
which may yet be left, and thereby drawing a Highland tempest
into the shop of my publisher. Now these same Helots, though
forced into the field by the arbitrary authority of the chieftains
ander whom they hewed wood and drew water, were, in general,
very sparingly fed, ill dressed, and worse armed. The latter
circumstance was indeed owing chiefly to the general disarming
act, which had been carried into effect ostensibly through the
whole Highlands, although most of the chieftains contrived to
elude its influence, by retaining the weapons of their own
immediate clansmen, and delivering up those of less value, which
they collected from these inferior satellites. It followed, as a
matter of course, that, as we have already hinted, many of these
poor fellows were brought to the field in a very wretched
condition.

From this it happened, that, in bodies, the van of which were
admirably well armed in their own fashion, the rear resembled
actual banditti. Here was a pole-axe, there a sword without a
scabbard ; here a gun without a lock, there a scythe set straight
upon a pole; and some had only their dirks, and bludgeons
or stakes pulled out of hedges. The grim, uncombed, and
wild appearance of these men, most of whom gazed with all the
admiration of ignorance upon the most ordinary production of
domestic art, created surprise in the Lowlands, but it also
created terror. So little was the condition of the Highlands
known at that late period, that the character and appearance of
their population, while thus sallying forth as military adventurers,
conveyed to the south-country Lowlanders as much surprise as
if an invasion of African Negroes or Esquimaux Indians had
issued forth from the northern mountains of their own native
country. It cannot therefore be wondered if Waverley, who
had hitherto judged of the Highlanders generally from the
samples which the policy of Fergus had from time to time
exhibited, should have felt damped and astonished at the daring
attempt of a body not then exceeding four thousand men, and
of whom not above half the number, at the utmost, were armed,
to change the fate, and alter the dynasty, of the British kingdoms.

WAVERLEY. 291

As he moved along the column, which still remained station-
ary, an iron gmi, the only piece of artillery possessed by the
army which meditated so important a revolution, was fired as
the signal of march. The Chevalier had expressed a wish to
leave this useless piece of ordnance behind him; but to his
siu-prise, the Highland chiefs inteiposed to solicit that it might
accompany their march, pleading the prejudices of their fol-
lowers, who, little accustomed to artillery, attached a degree of
absurd importance to this field-piece, and expected it would
contribute essentially to a victory which they could only owe to
their own muskets and broadswords. Two or three French
artillerymen were therefore appointed to the management of
this military engine, which was drawn along by a string of
Highland ponies, and was, after all, only used for the purpose
of firing signals.*

No sooner was its voice heard upon the present occasion, than
the whole line was in motion. A wild cry of joy from the
advancing battalions rent the air, and was then lost in the shrill
clangour of the bagpipes, as the sound of these, in their turn,
was partially drowmed by the heavy tread of so many men put
at once into motion. The banners glittered and shook as they
moved forward, and the horse hastened to occupy their station
as the advanced guard, and to push on reconnoitring parties to
ascertain and report the motions of the enemy. They vanished
from Waverley's eye as they wheeled round the base of Arthur's
Seat, under the remarkable ridge of basaltic rocks which fronts
the little lake of Duddingston.

The infantiy followed in the same direction, regulating their
pace by another body which occupied a road more to the south-
ward. It cost Edward some exertion of activity to attain the
place which Fergus's followers occupied in the line of march.

* Note T. Field-piece in the Highland army.

21)3 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIFTH.

AN INCIDENT GIVES RISE TO UNAVAILING REFLECTIONS.

When Waverley reached that part of the column which was
filled by the clan of Mac-Ivor, they halted, formed, and received
him with a triumphant flourish upon the bagpipes, and a loud
shout of the men, most of whom knew him personally, and were
delighted to see him in the dress of their country and of their
sept. " You shout," said a Highlander of a neighbouring clan to
Evan Dhu, " as if the Chieftain were just come to your head."

" Mar e Bran is e a brathair, If it be not Bran, it is Bran's
brother," was the proverbial reply of Maccombich.*"

" 0, then, it is the handsome Sassenach Duinhe-wassel, that
is to be maiTied to Lady Flora?"

"That may be, or it may not be; and it is neither your
matter nor mine, Gregor."

Fergus advanced to embrace the volunteer, and afford him a
warm and hearty welcome; but he thought it necessary to
apologize for the diminished numbers of his battalion (which
did not exceed tliree hundred men), by observing, he had sent
a good many out upon parties.

The real fact, however, was, that the defection of Donald
Bean Lean had deprived him of at least thirty hardy fellows,
whose services he had fully reckoned upon, and that many of
his occasional adherents had been recalled by their several chiefs
to the standards to which they most properly owed their
allegiance. The rival chief of the gi-eat northern branch also of
his own clan had mustered his people, although he had not yet
declared either for the Government or for the Chevalier, and by
his intrigues had in some degree diminished the force with which
Fergus took the field. To make amends for these disappoint-
ments, it was universally admitted that the followers of Vich
Ian Vohr, in point of appearance, equipment, arms, and dexterity
in using them, equalled the most choice troops which followed
the standard of Charles Edward. Old Ballenkeiroch acted as
his major ; and with the other ofl&cers who had known Waverley

* Bran, the well-known dog of Fingal, is often the theme of Highland
proverb as well as song.

I
I

WAVERLEY. 293

when at Glennaquoich, gave our hero a cordial reception, as the
sharer of their future dangers and expected honours.

The route pursued by the Highland army, after leaving the
village of Duddingston, was for some time the common post-
road betwixt Edinburgh and Haddington, until they crossed the
Esk at Musselburgh, when, instead of keeping the low grounds
towards the sea, they turned more inland, and occupied the
brow of the eminence called Carberiy Hill, a place already
distinguished in Scottish histoiy as the spot where the lovely
Mary surrendered herself to her insurgent subjects. This direc-
tion was chosen because the Chevalier had received notice that
the army of the Government, arriving by sea from Aberdeen,
had landed at Dunbar, and quartered the night before to the
west of Haddington, with the intention of falling down towards
the seaside, and approaching Edinburgh by the lower coast-
road. By keeping the height, which overhung that road in many
places, it was hoped the Highlanders might find an opportimity
of attacking them to advantage. The army therefore halted
upon the ridge of Carberry Hill, both to refresh the soldiers, and
as a central situation, from which then* march could be directed
to any point that the motions of the enemy might render most
advisable. While they remained in this position, a messenger
arrived in haste to desire Mac-Ivor to come to the Prince, add-
ing, that their advanced post had had a skirmish with some
of the enemy's cavalry, and that the Baron of Bradwardine had
sent in a few prisoners.

Waverley walked forward out of the line to satisfy his curi-
osity, and soon observed five or six of the troopers, who, covered
with dust, had galloped in to announce that the enemy were in
fidl march westward along the coast. Passing still a little
farther on, he was struck with a groan which issued from a hovel.
He approached the spot, and heard a voice, in the provincial
English of his native county, which endeavoured, though fre-
quently interrupted by pain, to repeat the Lord's Prayer. The
voice of distress always found a ready answer in our hero's bosom.
He entered the hovel, which seemed to be intended for what is
called, in the pastoral counties of Scotland, a smearing-house ;
and "in its obscurity Edward could only at first discern a sort of
red bundle ; for those who had stripped the wounded man of
his arms, and part of his clothes, had left him the dragoon-cloak
m which he was enveloped.

294

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" For the love of God," said the wounded man, as he heard
Waverley's step, "give me a single drop of water !"

" You shall have it," answered Waverley, at the same time
raising him in his arms, bearing him to the door of the hut, and
giving him some drink from his flask.

" I should know that voice," said the man ; but looking on
Waverley's dress with a bewildered look — " no, this is not the
young squire !"

This was the common phrase by which Edward was distin-
guished on the estate of Waverley-Honour, and the sound now
thrilled to his heart with the thousand recollections which the
well-known accents of his native country had already contri-
buted to awaken. " Houghton !" he said, gazing on the ghastly
features which death was fast disfiguring, " can this be you 1"

" I never thought to hear an English voice again," said the
wounded man ; " they left me to live or die here as I could,
when they found I would say nothing about the strength of the
regiment. But, 0 squire ! how could you stay from us so long,
and let us be tempted by that fiend of the pit, RuflQn 1 — we
should have followed you through flood and fire, to be sure."

" Rufiin ! I assure you, Houghton, you have been vilely im-
posed upon."

" I often thought so," said Houghton, " though they showed
us your very seal ; and so Tims was shot, and I was reduced to
the ranks."

" Do not exhaust your strength in speaking," said Edward ;
*' I will get you a surgeon presently."

He saw Mac-Ivor approaching, who was now returning from
head-quarters, where he had attended a council of war, and
hastened to meet him. " Brave news !" shouted the Chief, "we
shall be at it in less than two hours. The Prince has put him-
self at the head of the advance, and as he drew his sword, called
out, ' My friends, I have thrown away the scabbard.' Come,
Waverley, we move instantly."

"A moment — a moment; this poor prisoner is dying; —
where shall I find a surgeon?"

" Why, where should you 1 We have none, you know, but
two or three French fellows, who, I believe, are little better
than g argons apotkecaires.^^

" But the man will bleed to death."

" Poor fellow !" said Fergus in a momentary tit of compassion;

WAVERLEY. 295

then instantly added, "But it will be a thousand men's fate
before night ; so come along."

" I cannot ; I tell you he is a son of a tenant of my uncle's."

" 0, if he's a follower of yours, he must be looked to ; I'll
send Galium to you. But diaoul ! — ceade millia molligheart !"
continued the impatient Chieftain — " what made an old soldier
like Bradwardine send dying men here to cumber us^"

Galium came with his usual alertness ; and, indeed, Waverley
rather gained than lost in the opinion of the Highlanders by
his anxiety about the wounded man. They would not have
understood the general philanthropy which rendered it almost
impossible for Waverley to have passed any person in such
distress ; but, as apprehending that the sufferer was one of his
following,'^ they unanimously allowed that Waverley's conduct
was that of a kind and considerate chieftain, who merited the
attachment of his people. In about a quarter of an hour poor
Humphrey breathed his last, praying his young master, when he
returned to Waverley-Honour, to be kind to old Job Houghton
and his dame, and conjuring him not to fight with these wild
petticoat-men against old England.

When his last breath was drawn, Waverley, who had beheld
with sincere sorrow, and no slight tinge of remorse, the final
agonies of mortality, now witnessed for the first time, commanded
Galium to remove the body into the hut. This the young
Highlander performed, not without examining the pockets of
the defunct, which, however, he remarked, had been pretty well
spung'd. He took the cloak, however, and proceeding with the
provident caution of a spaniel hiding a bone, concealed it among
some furze, and carefully marked the spot, observing, that if ho
chanced to return that way, it would be an excellent rokelay
for his auld mother Elspat.

It was by a considerable exertion that they regained their
place in the marching column, which was now moving rapidly
forward to occupy the high grounds above the village of Tranent,
between which and the sea lay the purposed march of the oppo
site army.

This melancholy interview with his late sergeant forced many

unavailing and painful reflections upon Waverley's mind. It

was clear, from the confession of the man, that Golonel Gardiner's

proceedings had been strictly warranted, and even rendered in-

* ScoUicd for followers.

S96

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

^

.5

dispensable, by the steps taken in Edward's name to induce the
soldiers of his troop to mutiny. The circumstance of the seal
he now, for the fii'st time, recollected, and that he had lost it
in the cavern of the robber. Bean Lean. That the artful villain
had secured it, and used it as the means of carrying on an in-
trigue in the regiment, for his own purposes, was sufficiently
evident ; and Edward had now little doubt that in the packet
placed in his portmanteau by his daughter he should find farther
light upon his proceedings. In the meanwhile, the repeated
expostulation of Houghton — "Ah, squire, why did you leave
us 1" rung like a knell in his ears.

"Yes," he said, "I have indeed acted towards you with
thoughtless cruelty. I brought you from your paternal fields,
and the protection of a generous and kind landlord, and when I
had subjected you to all the rigour of military discipline I
shunned to bear my own share of the burden, and wandered
from the duties I had undertaken, leaving alike those whom it
was my business to protect, and my own reputation, to sufier
under the artifices of villany. 0 indolence and indecision of
mind ! if not in yourselves ^dces, to how much exquisite misery
and mischief do you frequently prepare the way !"

CHAPTER FORTY-SIXTH.

THE EVE OF BATTLE.

Although the Highlanders marched on very fast, the sun was
declining when they arrived upon the brow of those high grounds
which command an open and extensive plain stretching north-
ward to the sea, on which are situated, but at a considerable
distance from each other, the small villages of Seaton and
Cockenzie, and the larger one of Preston. One of the low
coast-roads to Edinburgh passed through this plain, issuing
upon it from the enclosures of Seaton-house, and at the town
or village of Preston again entering the defiles of an enclosed
country. By this way the English general had chosen to approach
the metropolis, both as most commodious for his cavalry, and
being probably of opinion that, by doing so, he would meet in
front with tlie Highlanders advancing from Edinburgh in the

WAVERLEY. 297

opposite direction. In this he was mistaken ; for the sound
judgment of the Chevalier, or of those to whose advice he
listened, left the direct passage free, but occupied the strong
ground by which it was overlooked and commanded.

When the Highlanders reached the heights above the plain
described, they were immediately formed in array of battle
along the brow of the hill. Almost at the same instant the van
of the English appeared issuing from among the trees and
enclosures of Seaton, with the purpose of occupying the level
plain between the high ground and the sea ; the space which
divided the armies being only about half-a-mile in breadth.
Waverley could plainly see the squadrons of dragoons, issue, one
after another, from the defiles, with their videttes in front, and
form upon the plain, with their front opposed to that of the
Prince's army. They were followed by a train of field-pieces,
which, when they reached the flank of the dragoons, were also
brought into line, and pointed against the heights. The march
was continued by three or four regiments of infantry marching
in open column, their fixed bayonets showing like successive
hedges of steel, and their arms glancing like lightning, as, at a
signal given, they also at once wheeled up, and were placed in
direct opposition to the Highlanders. A second train of artillery,
with another regiment of horse, closed the long march, and
formed on the left flank of the infantry, the whole line facing
southward.

While the English anny went through these evolutions, the
Highlanders showed equal promptitude and zeal for battle. As
fast as the clans came upon the ridge which fronted their enemy,
they were formed into line, so that both armies got into complete
order of battle, at the same moment. Wlien this was accom-
plished, the Highlanders set up a tremendous yell, which was
re-echoed by the heights behind them. The regulars, who were
in high spirits, returned a loud shout of defiance, and fired one
or two of theu' cannon upon an advanced post of the Highlanders.
The latter displayed great earnestness to proceed instantly to
the attack, Evan Dhu, urging to Fergus, by way of argument,
that " the sidier roy was tottering like an egg upon a staff", and
that they had a' the vantage of the onset, for even a haggis
(God bless her !) could charge down hill."

But the ground through which the mountaineers must have
descended, although not of great extent, was impracticable in

298 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

its character, being not only marshy, but intersected with walls
of dry stone, and traversed in its whole length by a very broad
and deep ditch, circumstances which must have given the
musketry of the regulars dreadful advantages, before the moun-
taineers could have used their swords, on which they were
taught to rely. The authority of the commanders was therefore
interposed to curb the impetuosity of the Highlanders, and only
a few marksmen were sent down the descent to skirmish with
the enemy's advanced posts, and to reconnoitre the ground.

Here, then, was a military spectacle of no ordinary interest,
or usual occurrence. The two armies, so different in aspect
and discipline, yet each admirably trained in its own peculiar
mode of war, upon whose conflict the temporary fate at least of
Scotland appeared to depend, now faced each other like two
gladiators in the arena, each meditating upon the mode of
attacking their enemy. The leading officers, and the general's
staff of each army, could be distinguished in front of their lines,
busied with spy-glasses to watch each other's motions, and
occupied in despatching the orders and receiving the intelligence
conveyed by the aides-de-camp and orderly men, who gave life
to the scene by galloping along in different directions, as if the
fate of the day depended upon the speed of their horses. The
space between the armies was at times occupied by the partial
and irregular contests of individual sharpshooters, and a hat or
bonnet was occasionally seen to fall, as a wounded man was
borne off by his comrades. These, however, were but trifling
skirmishes, for it suited the views of neither party to advance
in that direction. From the neighbouring hamlets the pea-
santry cautiously showed themselves, as if watching the issue
of the expected engagement ; and at no great distance in the
bay were two square-rigged vessels, bearing the English flag,
whose tops and yards were crowded with less timid spectators.

When this awful pause had lasted for a short time, Fergus,
with another chieftain, received orders to detach their clans
towards the village of Preston, in order to threaten the right
flank of Cope's army, and compel him to a change of position.
To enable him to execute these orders, the Chief of Glenna-
quoich occupied the churchyard of Tranent, a commanding
situation, and a convenient place, as Evan Dhu remarked, " for
any gentleman who might have the misfortune to be killed, and
chanced to be curious about Christian buiial." To check or

WAVERLEY. 299

dislodge this party, the English general detached two guns,

escorted by a strong party of cavalry. They approached so

near, that Waverley could plainly recognise the standard of the

troop he had formerly commanded, and hear the trumpets and

kettle-drums sound the signal of advance, which he had so

often obeyed. He could hear, too, the well-known word given

in the English dialect, by the equally well-distinguished voice

of the commanding officer, for whom he had once felt so much

respect. It was at that instant, that, looking around him, he

; saw the wild dress and appearance of his Highland associates,

1 heard their whispers in an uncouth and unknown language,

I looked upon his own dress, so unlike that wliich he had worn

y : from his infancy, and wished to awake from what seemed at

the moment a dream, strange, horrible, and unnatural. " Good

i God!" he muttered, " am I then a traitor to my country, a

; renegade to my standard, and a foe, as that poor dying wretch

\ expressed himself, to my native England?"

Ere he could digest or smother the recollection, the tall
military form of his late commander came full in view, for the
purpose of reconnoitring. " I can hit him now," said Galium,
cautiously raising his fusee over the wall under which he lay
couched, at scarce sixty yards' distance.

Edward felt as if he was about to see a parricide committed
in his presence ; for the venerable grey hair and striking coun-
tenance of the veteran recalled the almost paternal respect with
which his officers universally regarded him. But ere he could
say " Hold !" an aged Highlander, who lay beside Galium Beg,
stopped his arm. " Spare your shot," said the seer, " his hour
is not yet come. But let him beware of to-morrow. — I see his
winding-sheet high upon his breast."

Galium, flint to other considerations, was penetrable to super-
stition. He turned pale at the words of the Taishatr, and
recovered his piece. Golonel Gardiner, unconscious of the
danger he had escaped, turned his horse round, and rode slowly
back to the front of his regiment.

By this time the regular army had assumed a new line, with
one flank inclined towards the sea, and the other resting upon
the village of Preston ; and as similar difficulties occurred in
attacking their new position, Fergus and the rest of the detach-
ment were recalled to their former post. This alteration created
the necessity of a corresponding change in General Gope's army,

300

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

which was agam brought into a line parallel with that of the
Highlanders. In these manoeuvres on both sides the day-light
was nearly consumed, and both armies prepared to rest upon
their arms for the night in the lines which they respectively
occupied.

"There will be nothing done to-night," said Fergus to his
friend Waverley. " Ere we wrap oiu*selves in our plaids, let us
go see what the Baron is doing in the rear of the line."

When they approached his post, they found the good old
careful officer, after having sent out his night patrols, and
posted his sentinels, engaged in reading the Evening Service of
the Episcopal Church to the remainder of his troop. His voice
was loud and sonorous, and though his spectacles upon his
nose, and the appearance of Saunders Saunderson, in military
array, performing the functions of clerk, had something ludi-
crous, yet the circumstances of danger in which they stood, the
military costume of the audience, and the appearance of their
horses, saddled and picketed behind them, gave an impressive
and solemn effect to the office of devotion.

"I have confessed to-day, ere you were awake," whispered
Fergus to Waverley ; " yet I am not so strict a Catholic as to
refuse to join in this good man's prayers."

Edward assented, and they remained till the Baron had con-
cluded the service.

As he shut the book, " Now lads," said he, " have at them in
the morning, with hea^^ hands and light consciences." He
then kindly greeted Mac-Ivor and Waverley, who requested to
know his opinion of their situation. " Why, you know, Tacitus
saith ^ In rehus hellicis maxime dominatur Fortuna,^ which is
equiponderate with our vernacular adage, ' Luck can maist in
the mellee.' But credit me, gentlemen, yon man is not a
deacon o' his craft. He damps the spirits of the poor lads he
commands, by keeping them on the defensive, whilk of itself
implies inferiority or fear. Now will they lie on their arms
yonder, as anxious and as ill at ease as a toad under a harrow,
while our men will be quite fresh and blithe for action in the
morning. Well, good night. — One thing troubles me, but if
to-morrow goes well off, I will consult you about it, Glenna-
quoich."

"I could almost apply to Mr. Bradwardine the character
which Henry gives of Fluellen," said Waverley, as his friend
and he walked towards their bivouac:

WAVERLBY. 301

Though it appears a little out of fashion,

There is much care and valour in this " Scotchman. "

" He has seen much service," answered Fergus, " and one is
sometimes astonished to find how much nonsense and reason
are mingled in his composition. I wonder what can be troubling
his mind — probably something about Rose. — Hark ! the English
are setting their watch."

The roll of the drum and slirill accompaniment of the fifes
swelled up the hill — died away — resumed its thunder — and was
at length hushed. The trumpets and kettle-drums of the
cavalry were next heard to perform the beautiful and wild
point of war appropriated as a signal for that piece of nocturnal
duty, and then finally simk upon the wind with a shrill and
mournful cadence.

The friends, who had now reached their post, stood and
looked round them ere they lay down to rest. The western sky
twinkled with stars, but a frost-mist, rising from the ocean,
covered the eastern horizon, and rolled in white wreaths along
the plain where the adverse army lay couched upon their arms.
Their advanced posts were pushed as far as the side of the great
ditch at the bottom of the descent, and had kindled large fires at
different intervals, gleaming with obscure and hazy lustre through
the heavy fog which encircled them with a doubtful halo.

The Highlanders, "thick as leaves in Vallambrosa," lay
stretched upon the ridge of the hill, buried (excepting their
sentinels) in the most profound repose. " How many of these
brave fellows will sleep more soundly before to-morrow night,
Fergus !" said Waverley, with an involuntary sigh.

" You must not think of that," answered Fergus, whose ideas
were entirely military. " You must only think of your sword,
and by whom it was given. All other reflections are now too

LATE."

With the opiate contained in this undeniable remark, Edward
endeavoured to lull the tumult of his conflicting feelings. The
Chieftain and he, combining their plaids, made a comfortable
and warm couch. Galium, sitting down at their head, (for it
was his duty to watch upon the immediate person of the Chief,)
began a long mournful song in Gaelic, to a low and uniform
tune, which, like the soimd of the wind at a distance, soon
lulled them to sleep.

302 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVENTH.

THE CONFLICT.

When Fergus Mac-Ivor and his friend had slept for a few
hours, they were awakened, and siunmoned to attend the Prince.
The distant village-clock was heard to toll three as they hastened
to the place where he lay. He was already surrounded by his
principal officers and the chiefs of clans. A bundle of pease-
straw, which had been lately his couch, now served for a seat.
Just as Fergus reached the circle, the consultation had broken
up. " Courage, my brave friends ! " said the Chevalier, "and each
one put himself instantly at the head of his command ; a faithful
friend* has offered to guide us by a practicable, though narrow
and circuitous route, which, sweeping to our right, traverses the
broken ground and morass, and enables us to gain the firm and
open plain, upon which the enemy are lying. This difficulty
surmounted. Heaven and your good swords must do the rest."

The proposal spread unanimous joy, and each leader hastened
to get his men into order with as little noise as possible. The
army, moving by its right from off the ground on which they
had rested, soon entered the path through the morass, conduct-
ing their march with astonishing silence and great rapidity.
The mist had not risen to the higher groimds, so that for some
time they had the advantage of star-light. But this was lost
as the stars faded before approaching day, and the head of the
marchiQg column, continuing its descent, plunging as it were
into the heavy ocean of fog, which rolled its white waves over
the whole plain, and over the sea by which it was bounded.
Some difficulties were now to be encoimtered, inseparable from
darkness, — a narrow, broken, and marshy path, and the neces-
sity of preserving union in the march. These, however, were
less inconvenient to Highlanders, from their habits of life, than
they would have been to any other troops, and they continued a
steady and swift movement.

As the clan of Ivor approached the firm ground, following
the track of those who preceded them, the challenge of a patrol
was heard through the mist, though they could not see the
dragoon by whom it was made — " Who goes there T
* Kote U. — Anderson of WMtburgh,

WAVERLEY. 303

"Hush!" cried ■ Fergus, "hush! — Let none answer as he
values his life. — Press forward !" and they continued their march
with silence and rapidity.

The patrol fired his carabine upon the body, and the report
was instantly followed by the clang of his horse's feet as he
galloped off. " Hylax in limine latrat" said the Baron of
Bradwardine, who heard the shot; "that loon will give the
alarm."

The clan of Fergus had now gained the firm plain, which
had lately borne a large crop of com. But the harvest was
gathered in, and the expanse was unbroken by tree, bush, or
interruption of any kind. The rest of the army were following
fast, when they heard the drums of the enemy beat the general.
Surprise, however, had made no part of their plan, so they were
not disconcerted by this intimation that the foe was upon his
guard and prepared to receive them. It only hastened their
dispositions for the combat, which were very simple.

The Highland army, which now occupied the eastern end of
the wide plain, or stubble field, so often referred to, was drawn
up in two lines, extending from the morass towards the sea.
The first was destined to charge the enemy, the second to act
as a reserve. The few horse, whom the Prince headed in person,
remained between the two lines. The Adventurer had intimated
a resolution to charge in person at the head of his first line ;
but his purpose was deprecated by all around him, and he was
with difficulty induced to abandon it.

Both lines were now moving forward, the first prepared for
instant combat. The clans of which it was composed, formed
each a sort of separate phalanx, narrow in front, and in depth
ten, twelve, or fifteen files, according to the strength of the
following. The best-armed and best-born, for the words were
synonymous, were placed in front of each of these irregular
subdivisions. The others in the rear shouldered forward the
front, and by their pressure added both physical impulse, and
additional ardour and confidence, to those who were first to
encounter the danger.

" Down with your plaid, Waverley," cried Fergus, throwing
off his own ; " we'll win silks for oui* tartans before the sim is
above the sea."

The clansmen on every side stript their plaids, prepared their
arms, and there was an awful pause of about three minutes,

304 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

during which the men, pulling off their bonnets, raised theii
faces to heaven, and uttered a short prayer ; then pulled their
bonnets over their brows, and began to move forward at first
slowly. Waverley felt his heart at that moment throb as it
would have burst from his bosom. It was not fear, it was not
ardour, — it was a compound of both, a new and deeply ener-
getic impulse, that with its first emotion chilled and astounded,
then fevered and maddened his mind. The sounds around him
combined to exalt his enthusiasm; the pipes played, and the
clans rushed forward, each in its own dark column. As they
advanced they mended their pace, and the muttering sounds of
the men to each other began to swell into a wild cry.

At this moment the sun, which was now risen above the
horizon, dispelled the mist. The vapours rose like a curtain,
and showed the two armies in the act of closing. The line of the
regulars was formed directly fronting the attack of the High-
landers ; it glittered with the appointments of a complete army,
and was flanked by cavalry and artillery. But the sight im-
pressed no terror on the assailants.

" Forward, sons of Ivor," cried their Chief, " or the Camerons
will draw the first blood !" — They rushed on with a tremendous

yell

The rest is well known. The horse, who were commanded
to charge the advancing Highlanders in the flank, received an
irregular fire from their fusees as they ran on, and, seized with
a disgraceful panic, wavered, halted, disbanded, and galloped
from the field. The artillerymen, deserted by the cavalry, fled
after discharging their pieces, and the Highlanders, who dropped
their guns when fired, and drew their broadswords, rushed with
headlong fury against the infantry.

It was at this moment of confusion and terror, that Waverley
remarked an English officer, apparently of high rank, standing
alone and unsupported by a field-piece, which, after the flight
of the men by whom it was wrought, he had himself levelled
and discharged against the clan of Mac-Ivor, the nearest group
of Highlanders within his aim. Struck with his tall, martial
figure, and eager to save him from inevitable destruction,
Waverley outstripped for an instant even the speediest of the
warriors, and, reaching the spot first, called to him to surrender.
The officer replied by a thrust with his sword, which Waverley
received in his target, and in turning it aside the Englishman's

WAVERLEY. 305

weapon broke. At the same time the battle-axe of Dugald
Mahony was iu the act of descending upon the officer's head,
Waverley intercepted and prevented the blow, and the officer, per-
ceiving further resistance unavailing, and struck with Edward's
generous anxiety for his safety, resigned the fragment of his
sword, and was committed by Waverley to Dugald, with strict
charge to use him well, and not to pillage his person, promising
him, at the same time, full indemnification for the spoil.

On Edward's right, the battle for a few minutes raged fierce
and thick. The English infantiy, trained in the wars in
Flanders, stood their gi-ound with great courage. But their
extended files were pierced and broken in many places by the
close masses of the clans ; and in the personal struggle which
ensued, the natiu'e of the Highlanders' weapons, and their
extraordinary fierceness and activity, gave them a decided
superiority over those who had been accustomed to trust much
to their aiTay and discipline, and felt that the one was broken
and the other useless. Waverley, as he cast his eyes towards
this scene of smoke and slaughter, observed Colonel Gardiner,
deserted by his own soldiers in spite of all his attempts to rally
them, yet spurring his horse through the field to take the com-
mand of a small body of infantry, who, with their backs arranged
against the wall of his own park (for his house was close by the
field of battle), continued a desperate and unavailing resistance.
Waverley could perceive that he had already received many
wounds, his clothes and saddle being marked with blood. To
save this good and brave man, became the instant object of his
most anxious exertions. But he could only witness his fall.
Ere Edward could make his way among the Highlanders, who,
furious and eager for spoil, now thronged upon each other, he
saw his former commander brought from his horse by the blow
of a scythe, and beheld him receive, while on the groimd,
more wounds than would have let out twenty lives. When
Waverley came up, however, perception had not entirely fled.
The dying warrior seemed to recognise Edward, for he fixed his
eye upon him with an upbraiding, yet sorrowful look, and
appeared to struggle for utterance. But he felt that death was
dealing closely with him, and resigning his purpose, and folding
his hands as if in devotion, he gave up his soul to his Creator,
The look with which he regarded Waverley in his dying moments
did not strike him so deeply at that crisis of hui-ry and confusion,

VOL. 1. X

306 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

as when it recurred to his imagination at the distance of some
time.*

Loud shouts of triumph now echoed over the whole field.
The battle was fought and won, and the whole baggage, artillery,
and military stores of the regular army remained in possession
of the victors. Never was a victory more complete. Scarce
any escaped from the battle, excepting the cavalry, who had left
it at the very onset, and even these were broken into different
parties, and scattered all over the country. So far as our tale
is concerned, we have only to relate the fate of Balmawhapple,
who, mounted on a horse as headstrong and stiff-necked as his
rider, pursued the flight of the dragoons above four miles from
the field of battle, when some dozen of the fugitives took heart
of grace, turned round, and, cleaving his skull with their broad-
swords, satisfied the world that the unfortunate gentleman had
actually brains, the end of his life thus giving proof of a fact
greatly doubted during its progress. His death was lamented
by few. Most of those who knew him agreed in the pithy
observation of Ensign Maccombich, that there " was mau' tint
(lost) at Sheriff-Muir." His friend Lieutenant Jinker, bent his
eloquence only to exculpate his favourite mare from any share
in contributing to the catastrophe. " He had tauld the laird a
thousand times," he said, '' that it was a burning shame to put
a martingale upon the puir thing, when he would needs ride
her wi' a curb of half-a-yard lang ; and that he could na but
bring himsell (not to say her) to some mischief, by flinging her
down, or otherwise ; whereas, if he had had a wee bit rinnin
ring on the snaffle, she wad ha' rein'd as cannily as a cadger's
powuie."

Such was the elegy of the Laird of Balmawhapple. t

• Note V. Death of Oolonel Gardiner,
t Note W. Laird of Balmavrhapple.

WAVERLEY. 307

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHTH.

AN UNEXPECTED EMBAKEASSMENT.

When the battle was over, and all things coming into order,
the Baron of Bradwardine, returning from the duty of the day,
and having disposed those imder his command in their proper
stations, sought the Chieftain of Glennaquoich and his friend
Edward Waverley. He found the foimer busied in determining
disputes among his clansmen about points of precedence and
deeds of valour, besides sundiy high and doubtfid questions
concerning plunder. The most important of the last respected
the property of a gold watch, which had once belonged "to some
unfortunate English officer. The party against whom judgment
was awarded consoled himself by observing, " She (i.e. the
watch, which he took for a living animal) died the very night
Vich Ian Vohr gave her to Murdock;" the machine having, m
fact, stopped for want of winding up.

It was just when this important question was decided, that
the Baron of Bradwardine, with a careful and yet important
expression of countenance, joined the two young men. He
descended from his reeking charger, the care of which he recom-
mended to one of his grooms. " I seldom ban, sir," said he to
the man ; " but if you play any of your hound's-foot tricks, and
leave puir Berwick before he's sorted, to rin after spuilzie, deil
be wi' me if I do not give your craig a thraw." He then
stroked with great complacency the animal which had borne
him through the fatigues of the day, and having taken a tender
leave of him, — " Weel, my good young friends, a glorious and
decisive victory," said he ; " but these loons of troopers fled
ower soon. I should have liked to have shown you the true
points of the prcelium equestre, or equestrian combat, whilk
their cowardice has postponed, and which I hold to be the pride
and terror of warfare. Weel, I have fought once more in this
old quarrel, though I admit I could not be so far ben as you
lads, being that it was my point of duty to keep together our
handful of horse. And no cavalier ought in any wise to be-
grudge honour that befalls his companions, even though they
are ordered upon thrice his danger, whilk, another time, by the
blessing of God, may be his own ciise. — But, Glennaquoich, and

308 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

you, Mr. Waverley, I pray ye to give me your best advice on a
matter of mickle weight, and which deeply affects the honour of
the house of Bradwardine. — I crave your pardon. Ensign Mac-
combich, and yours, Inveraughlin, and yours, Edderalshendrach,
and yours, sir."

The last person he addressed was Ballenkeiroch, who, remem-
bering the death of his sou, lowered on him with a look of
savage defiance. The Baron, quick as lightning at taking um-
brage, had already bent his brow, when Glennaquoich dragged
his major from the spot, and remonstrated with him, in the
authoritative tone of a chieftain, on the madness of reviving a
quarrel in such a moment.

" The ground is cumbered with carcases," said the old moim-
taineer, turning sullenly away ; "one more would hardly have
been kenn'd upon it ; and if it wasna for yoursell, Vich Ian
Vohr, that one should be Bradwardine's or mine."

The chief soothed while he hurried him away; and then
returned to the Baron. " It is Ballenkeiroch," he said, in an
under and confidential voice, "father of the young man who
feU eight years since in the unlucky affair at the Mains."

"Ah!" said the Baron, instantly relaxing the doubtful
sternness of his features, " I can take mickle fra a man to
whom I have unhappily rendered sic a displeasure as that. Ye
were right to apprize me, Glennaquoich ; he may look as black
as midnight at Martinmas ere Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine
shall say he does him wrang. Ah ! I have nae male lineage,
and I should bear with one I have made childless, though you
are aware the blood-wit was made up to your ain satisfaction
by assythment, and that I have since expedited letters of slains.
— Weel, as I have said, I have no male issue, and yet it is
needful that I maintain the honoui* of my house ; and it is on
that score I prayed ye for your peculiar and private attention."

The two young men awaited to hear him in anxious curiosity.

" I doubt na, lads," he proceeded, " but your education has
been sae seen to, that ye understand the true nature of the
feudal tenures?"

Fergus, afraid of an endless dissertation, answered, "Inti-
mately, Baron," and touched Waverley, as a signal to express
no ignorance.

"And ye are aware, I doubt not, that the holding of the
Bftrony of Bradwardine is of a nature alike honourable and

WAVERLEY. 309

peculiar, being blanch (which Craig opines ought to be Latinated
hlancvm, or rather francum, a free holding) 'pro servitio detrahendij
seu eamendi, caligas regis post hattalliam." Here Fergus turned
his falcon eye upon Edward, with an almost imperceptible rise
of his eyebrow, to which his shoulders corresponded in the same
degree of elevation. " Now, twa points of dubitation occur to
rae upon this topic. First, whether this service, or feudal
homage, be at any event due to the person of the PriQce, the
words being, per expressum, caligas regis, the boots of the king
himself; and I pray your opinion anent that particular before
we proceed farther."

"Why, he is Prince Regent," answered Mac-Ivor, with
laudable composure of countenance; "and in the court of
France all the honours are rendered to the person of the Regent
which are due to that of the King. Besides, were I to pull of!
either of their boots, I would render that service to the young
Chevalier ten times more willingly than to his father."

"Ay, but I talk not of personal predilections. However,
your authority is of great weight as to the usages of the court
of France : and doubtless the Prince, as alter ego, may have a
right to claim the homagium of the great tenants of the crown,
since all faithful subjects are commanded, in the commission of
regency, to respect him as the king's own person. Far, there-
fore, be it from me to diminish the lustre of his authority, by
withholding this act of homage, so peculiarly calculated to give
it splendour ; for I question if the Emperor of Germany hath
his boots taken off by a free baron of the empire. But here
lieth the second difficulty. — The Prince wears no boots, but
simply brogues and trews."

This last dilemma had almost disturbed Fergus's gravity.

"Why," said he, "you know, Baron, the proverb tells us,
* It's ill taking the breeks off a Higlilandman,' — and the boots
are here in the same predicament."

" The word caligce, however," continued the Baron, " though
I admit, that, by family tradition, and even in our ancient
evidents, it is explained lie boots, means, in its primitive sense,
rather sandals ; and Cains Caesar, the nephew and successor of
Caius Tiberius, received the agnomen of Caligula, a caligulis,
sive caligis levioribus, quibus adolescentior usus fuerat in exercitu
Germanici patris sui. And the caligce were also proper to the
monastic bodias ; for we read in an ancient Glossariura, upon

310 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

tlie rule of St Benedict, in the Abbey of St. Amand, that caligce
were tied with latchets."

" That will apply to the brogues," said Fergus.

"It will so, my dear Glennaquoich ; and the words are
express : Galigce dictce sunt quia ligantur ; nam socci non ligantur,
sed tantum intromittuntur ; that is, caligce are denominated from
the ligatures wherewith they are bound ; whereas socci, which
may be analogous to our mules, whilk the English denominate
slippers, are only slipped upon the feet. The words of the
charter are also alternative, — exuere, seu detrahere; that is, to
undo, as in the case of sandals or brogues ; and to pull off, as
we say vernacularly, concerning boots. Yet I would we had
more light ; but I fear there is little chance of finding hereabout
any erudite author de re vestiarid."

" I should doubt it very much," said the Chieftain, looking
around on the straggling Highlanders, who were returning
loaded with spoils of the slain, " though the res vestiaria itself
seems to be in some request at present."

This remark coming within the Baron's idea of jocularity,
he honoured it with a smile, but immediately resumed what to
him appeared very serious business.

"Bailie Macwheeble indeed holds an opinion, that this
honorary service is due, from its very nature, si petatur tantum ;
only if his Hoyal Highness shall require of the great tenant of
the crown to perform that personal duty ; and indeed he pointed
out the case in Dirleton's Doubts and Queries, Grippet versus
Spicer, anent the eviction of an estate oh non solutum caTwnem,
that is, for non-payment of a feu-duty of tliree pepper-corns
a-year, whilk were taxt to be worth seven-eighths of a penny
Scots, in whilk the defender was assoilzied. But I deem it
safest, wi' your good favour, to place myself in the way of
rendering the Prince this service, and to profier performance
thereof; and I shall cause the BaUie to attend with a schedule
of a protest, whilk he has here prepared (taking out a paper),
intimating, that if it shall be his Royal Highness's pleasure to
accept of other assistance at pulling off his caligm (whether the
same shall be rendered boots or brogues) save that of the said
Baron of Bradwardine, who is in presence ready and willing to
perform the same, it shall in no wise impinge upon or prejudice
the right of the said Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine to perform
the said service in future ; nor shall it give any esquire, valet

WAVERLEY. 311.

of the chamber, squire, or page, whose assistance it may please
his Royal Highness to employ, any right, title, or ground, for
evicting from the said Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine the estate
and barony of Bradwardine, and others held as aforesaid, by the
due and faithfid performance thereof."

Fergus highly applauded this arrangement ; and the Baron
took a friendly leave of them, with a smile of contented im-
portance upon his visage.

" Long live our dear friend the Baron," exclamied the Chief,
as soon as he was out of hearing, " for the most absiu*d original
that exists north of the Tweed ! I wish to heaven I had recom-
mended him to attend the circle this evening with a boot-ketch
under his arm. I think he might have adopted the suggestion,
if it had been made with suitable gravity."

" And how can you take pleasure in making a man of his
worth so ridiculous?"

" Begging pardon, my dear Waverley, you ai'e as ridiculous
as he. Why, do you not see that the man's whole mind is
wrapped up in this ceremony ? He has heard and thought of
it since infancy, as the most august privilege and ceremony in
the world; and I doubt not but the expected pleasure of
performing it was a principal motive with him for taking up
arms. Depend upon it, had I endeavoiu-ed to divert him from
exposing himself, he would have treated me as an ignorant
conceited coxcomb, or perhaps might have taken a fancy to cut
my throat ; a pleasure which he once proposed to himself upon
some point of etiquette, not half so important, in his eyes, as
this matter of boots or brogues, or whatever the caligce shall
finally be pronounced by the learned. But I must go to head-
quarters to prepare the Prince for this extraordinarj- scene.
My information will be well taken, for it will give him a hearty
laugh at present, and put him on his guard against laughing,
when it might be veiy inalro-propos. So, au revoir^ my deaj
Waverley."

S|g WAVERLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINTH.

THE ENGLISH PETSONER.

The first occupation of Waverley, after he departed from the
Chieftain, was to go in quest of the officer whose life he had
saved. He was guarded, along with his companions in misfor-
tune, who were very numerous, in a gentleman's house near the
field of battle.

On entering the room where they stood crowded together,
Waverley easily recognised the object of his visit, not only by
the peculiar dignity of his appearance, but by the appendage of
Dugald Mahony, with his battle-axe, who had stuck to him
from the moment of his captivity, as if he had been skewered
to his side. This close attendance was, perhaps, for the purpose
of securing his promised reward from Edward, but it also
operated to save the English gentleman from being plimdered
in the scene of general confusion ; for Dugald sagaciously argued,
that the amount of the salvage which he might be allowed,
would be regulated by the state of the prisoner, when he should
deliver him over to Waverley. He hastened to assure Waverley,
therefore, with more words than he usually employed, that he
had " keepit ta sidier roy haill, and that he wasna a plack the
waur since the ferry moment when his honour forbad her to gie
him a bit clamhewit wi' her Lochaber axe."

Waverley assured Dugald of a liberal recompense, and,
approaching the English officer, expressed his anxiety to do
anything which might contribute to his convenience under his
present unpleasant circumstances.

" I am not so inexperienced a soldier, sir," answered the
Englishman, "as to complain of the fortune of war. I am
only grieved to see those scenes acted in our own island, which
I have often witnessed elsewhere with comparative indifference."

" Another such day as this," said Waverley, " and I trust the
cause of your regrets will be removed, and all will again return
to peace and order."

The officer smiled and shook his head. " I must not forget
my situation so far as to attempt a formal confutation of that
opinion j but, notwithstanding your success, and the valour

WAVEELEY. 318

which achieved it, you have undertaken a task to which youi
strength appears wholly inadequate."

At this moment Fergus pushed into the press,

" Come, Edward, come along ; the Prince has gone to Pinkie-
house for the night ; and we must follow, or loose the whole
ceremony of the caligcB. Your friend, the Baron, has been
guilty of a great piece of cruelty ; he has insisted upon dragging
Bailie Macwheeble out to the field of battle. Now you must
know the Bailie's greatest horror is an armed Highlander, or a
loaded gun ; and there he stands, listening to the Baron's
instructions concerning the protest, ducking his head like a sea-
gull at the report of every gun and pistol that our idle boys are
firing upon the fields ; and undergoing, by way of penance, at
every symptom of flinching, a severe rebuke from his patron,
who would not admit the discharge of a whole battery of cannon,
within point-blank distance, as an apology for neglecting a dis-
course, in which the honour of his family is interested."

" But how has Mr. Bradwardine got him to ventiu'e so far?"
said Edward.

" Why, he had come as far as Musselburgh, I fancy, in hopes
of making some of our wills ; and the peremptory commands of
the Baron dragged him forward to Preston after the battle was
over. He complains of one or two of our ragamufiins having
put him in peril of his life, by presenting their pieces at him ;
but as they limited his ransom to an English penny, I don't think
we need trouble the provost-marshal upon that subject. So,
come along, Waverley."

"Waverley !" said the English officer, with great emotion;
" the nephew of Sir Everard Waverley, of shire?"

" The same, sir," replied our hero, somewhat surprised at the
tone in which he was addressed.

"I am at once happy and grieved," said the prisoner, "to
have met with you."

"1 am ignorant, sir," answered Waverley, "how I have
deserved so much interest."

"Did your uncle never mention a friend called Talbot?"

" I have heard him talk with great regard of such a person,"
replied Edward ; " a colonel, I believe, in the army, and the
husband of Lady Emily Blandeville; but I thought Colonel
Talbot had been abroad."

"I am just returned," ans'wered the officer ; "and being in

814 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Scotland, thought it my duty to act where my services promised
to be useful. Yes, Mr. Waverley, I am that Colonel Talbot,
the husband of the lady you have named ; and I am proud to
acknowledge that I owe alike my professional rank and my
domestic happiness to your generous and noble-minded relative.
Good God ! that I should find his nephew in such a dress, and
engaged in such a cause !"

" Sir," said Fergus, haughtily, " the dress and cause are those
of men of birth and honour."

" My situation forbids me to dispute your assertion," said
Colonel Talbot ; " otherwise it were no difficidt matter to show,
that neither courage nor pride of lineage can gild a bad cause.
But, with Mr. Waverley's permission, and yours, sir, if yours
also must be asked, I would willingly speak a few words with
him on affairs connected with his own family."

" Mr. Waverley, sir, regulates his own motions. — ^You will
follow me, I suppose, to Pinkie," said Fergus, turning to Edward,
" when you have finished your discourse with this new acquaint-
ance ?" So saying, the Chief of Glennaquoich adjusted his plaid
with rather more than his usual air of haughty assumption, and
left the apartment.

The interest of Waverley readily procm-ed for Colonel Talbot
the freedom of adjourning to a large garden belonging to his
place of confinement. They walked a few paces in silence,
Colonel Talbot apparently studying how to open what he had
to say ; at length he addressed Edward.

" Mr. Waverley, you have this day saved my life ; and yet I
would to God that I had lost it, ere I had found you wearing
the uniform and cockade of these men."

" I forgive your reproach. Colonel Talbot ; it is well meant,
and your education and prejudices render it natural. But there
is nothing extraordinary in finding a man, whose honour has
been publicly and imjustly assailed, in the situation which
promised most fair to afibrd him satisfaction on his calum-
niators."

" I should rather say, in the situation most likely to confirm
the reports which they have circulated," said Colonel Talbot,
" by following the very line of conduct ascribed to you. Are
you aware, Mr. Waverley, of the infinite distress and even
danger, which your present conduct has occasioned to youi
nearest relatives'?"

WAVERLEY. 316

"Danger!"

"Yes, sir, danger. When I left England, your uncle and
father had been obliged to find bail to answer a charge of
treason, to which they were only admitted by the exertion of
the most powerful interest. I came down to Scotland, with the
sole purpose of rescuing you from the gulf into which you have
precipitated yourself; nor can I estimate the consequences to
your family of your having openly joined the rebellion, since
the very suspicion of your intention was so perilous to them.
Most deeply do I regret that I did not meet you before this last
and fatal error."

" I am really ignorant," said Waverley in a tone of reserve,
"why Colonel Talbot should have taken so much trouble on
my account."

"Mr. Waverley," answered Talbot, "I am dull at appre-
hending irony ; and therefore I shall answer your words
according to their plain meaning. I am indebted to your uncle
for benefits greater than those which a son owes to a father. I
acknowledge to him the duty of a son ; and as I know there is no
manner in which I can requite his kindness so well as by serving
you, I will serve you, if possible, whether you will permit me or
no. The personal obligation which you have this day laid me
under (although in common estimation as great as one human
being can bestow on another) adds nothing to my zeal on your
behalf; nor can that zeal be abated by any coolness with which
you may please to receive it.

" Your intentions may be kind, sir," said Waverley, drily ;
"but your language is harsh, or at least peremptory."

" On my return to England," continued Colonel Talbot,
" after long absence, I found your uncle. Sir Everard Waverley,
in the custody of a king's messenger, in consequence of the
suspicion brought upon him by your conduct. He is my oldest
friend — how often shall I repeat it ? — my best benefactor ; he
sacrificed his own views of happiness to mine — he never uttered
a word, he never harboured a thought, that benevolence itself
might not have thought or spoken. I found this man in con-
finement, rendered harsher to him by his habits of life, hia
natural dignity of feeling, and — forgive me, Mr. Waverley — by
the cause through which this calamity had come upon him. I
cannot disguise from you my feelings upon this occasion ; they
were most painfully imfavourable to you. Having, by my

316 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

family interest, which you probably know is not inconsiderable,
succeeded in obtaining Sir Everard's release, I set out foi
Scotland. I saw Colonel Gardiner, a man whose fate alone is
sufficient to render this insurrection for ever execrable. In the
course of conversation with him, I found, that, from late circum-
stances, from a re-examination of the persons engaged in the
mutiny, and from his original good opinion of your character,
he was much softened towards you ; and I doubted not, that if
I could be so fortimate as to discover you all might yet be
well. But this unnatural rebellion has ruined all. I have,
for the first time, in a long and active military life, seen
Britons disgrace themselves by a panic flight, and that before
a foe without either arms or discipline ! and now I find the
heir of my dearest friend — the son, I may say, of his affections
— sharing a triumph, for which he ought the first to have blushed.
Why should I lament Gardiner 1 his lot was happy, compared
to mine !"

There was so much dignity in Colonel Talbot's manner, such
a mixture of military pride and manly sorrow, and the news of
Sir Everard's imprisonment was told in so deep a tone of feel-
ing, that Edward stood mortified, abashed, and distressed, in
presence of the prisoner, who owed to him his life not many
hours before. He was not sorry whe^n Fergus interrupted their
conference a second time.

" His Royal Highness commands Mr. Waverley's attend-
ance." Colonel Talbot threw upon Edward a reproachful
glance, which did not escape the quick eye of the Highland
Chief. "His immediate attendance," he repeated, with con-
siderable emphasis. Waverley turned again towards the
Colonel.

" We shall meet again," he said ; " in the meanwhile, every
possible accommodation" —

" I desire none," said the Colonel ; let me fare like the
meanest of those brave men, who, on this day of calamity, have
preferred wounds and captivity to flight ; I would almost
exchange places with one of those who have fallen, to know
that my words have made a suitable impression on your mind."

" Let Colonel Talbot be carefully secured," said Fergus to the
Highland ofiicer, who commanded the guard over the prisoners ;
" It is the Prince's particular command ; he is a prisoner of the
utmost importance."

WAVEELEY. 317

" But let him want no accommodation suitable to his rank,"
said Waverley.

" Consistent always with secure custody," reiterated Fergus.
The officer signified his acquiescence in l)oth commands, and
Edward followed Fergus to the garden-gate, where Galium
Beg, with three saddle-horses, awaited them. Turning his
head, he saw Colonel Talbot reconducted to his place of con-
finement by a file of Highlanders ; he lingered on the threshold
of the door, and made a signal with his hand towards Waverley,
as if enforcing the language he had held towards him.

" Horses," said Fergus, as he mounted, " are now as plenty
as blackberries ; every man may have them for the catch-
ing. Come, let Callum adjust your stirrups, and let us to
Pinkie-house* as fast as these ci-divant dragoon-horses choose
to carry us."

* Charles Edward took up his quarters after the battle at Pinkie-house,
adjoining to Musselburgh.

CHAPTER FIFTIETH.

RATHER UNIMPORTANT.

" I WAS turned back," said Fergus to Edward as they galloped
from Preston to Pinkie-house, " by a message from the Prince.
But, I suppose you know the value of this most noble Colonel
Talbot as a prisoner. He is held one of the best officers among
the red-coats ; a special friend and favourite of the Elector
himself, and of that dreadful hero the Duke of Cumberland,
who has been summoned from his triumphs at Fontenoy, to
come over and devour us poor Highlanders alive. Has he been
telling you how the bells of St. James's ring ? Not ' turn again,
Whittington,' like those of Bow, in the days of yore '?"

" Fergus !" said Waverley, with a reproachful look.

" Nay, I cannot tell what to make of you," answered the
Chief of Mac-Ivor, " you are blown about with every wind of
doctrine. Here have we gained a victory, unparalleled in history
— and your behaviour is praised by every living mortal to the
skies — and the Prince is eager to thank you in person — and all
our beauties of the White Rose are pulling caps for you, — and

318 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

you, the 'prmx chevalier of the day, are stooping on your horse's
neck like a butter-woman riding to market, and looking as black
as a funeral "

" I am sorry for poor Colonel Gardiner's death : he was once
very kind to me."

" Why, then, be sorry for five minutes, and then be glad again ;
his chance to-day may be ours to-morrow. And what does it
signify 1 — the next best thing to victory is honourable death ;
but it is a pis-aller, and one would rather a foe had it than
one's self."

" But Colonel Talbot has informed me that my father and
uncle are both imprisoned by government on my account."

" We'll put in bail, my boy ; old Andrew Ferrara* shall lodge
his security ; and I should like to see him put to justify it in
Westminster Hall."

" Nay, they are already at liberty, upon bail of a more civic
disposition."

" Then why is thy noble spirit cast down, Edward ? Dost
think that the Elector's Ministers are such doves as to set their
enemies at liberty at this critical moment, if they could or durst
confine and punish them ? Assure thyself that either they have
no charge against your relations on which they can continue
their imprisonment, or else they are afraid of our friends, the
jolly cavaliers of old England. At any rate, you need not be
apprehensive upon their accoimt ; and we will find some means
of conveying to them assurances of your safety."

Edward was silenced but not satisfied with these reasons.
He had now been more than once shocked at the small degree
of sympathy which Fergus exhibited for the feelings even of
those whom he loved, if they did not correspond with his own
mood at the time, and more especially if they thwarted him
while earnest in a favourite pursuit. Fergus sometimes indeed
observed that he had offended Waverley, but, always intent upon
some favourite plan or project of his own, he was never suffi-
ciently aware of the extent or duration of his displeasure, so
that the reiteration of these petty ofiences somewhat cooled the
volunteer's extreme attachment to his ofiicer.

The Chevalier received Waverley with his usual favour, and
paid him many compliments on his distinguished bravery.
He then took him apart, made many inquiries concerning
* Note X. Ajidrca di Ferrara.

WAVERLEY. 31 9

Colonel Talbot, and when he had received all the information
which Edward was able to give concerning him and his con-
nexions, he proceeded, — " I cannot but tliink, Mr. Waverley,
that since this gentleman is so particularly connected with oui
worthy and excellent friend, Sir Everard Waverley, and since
his lady is of the house of Blandeville, whose devotion to the
true a,nd loyal principles of the Church of England is so generally
known, the Colonel's own private sentiments cannot be unfavour-
able to us, whatever mask he may have assumed to accommodate
himself to the times."

" If I am to judge from the language he this day held to me,
I am under the necessity of differing widely from your Royal
Highness."

" Well, it is worth making a trial at least. I therefore
entrust you with the charge of Colonel Talbot, with power to
act concerning him as you think most advisable ; — and I hope
you will find means of ascertaining what are his real dispositions
towards our Royal Father's restoration."

" I am convinced," said Waverley, bowing, " that if Colonel
Talbot chooses to grant his parole, it may be securely depended
upon ; but if he refuses it, I trust your Royal Highness will
devolve on some other person than the nephew of his friend, the
task of laying him under the necessary restraint."

" I will trust him with no person but you," said the Prince
smiling, but peremptorily repeating his mandate : "it is of
importance to my service that there should appear to be a good
intelligence between you, even if you are unable to gain his
confidence in earnest. You will therefore receive him into
your quarters, and in case he declines giving his parole, you
must apply for a proper guard. I beg you will go about this
directly. We return to Edinburgh to-morrow."

Being thus remanded to the vicinity of Preston, Waverley
lost the Baron of Bradwardine's solemn act of homage. So
little, however, was he at this time in love with vanity, that he
had quite forgotten the ceremony in which Fergus had laboured
to engage his curiosity. But next day a formal Gazette was
circulated, containing a detailed account of the battle of
Gladsmuir, as the Highlanders chose to denominate their
victory. It concluded with an account of the Court afterwards
held by the Chevalier at Pinkie-house, which contained this
amonjj other high-flown descriptive paragraphs : —

320 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" Since that fatal treaty which annihilates Scotland as an
independent nation, it has not been our happiness to see her
princes receive, and her nobles discharge, those acts of feudal
homage, which, founded upon the splendid actions of Scottish
valour, recall the memory of her early history, with the manly
and chivalrous simplicity of the ties which united to the Crown
the homage of the warriors by whom it was repeatedly upheld
and defended. But on the evening of the 20th, our memories
were refreshed with one of those ceremonies which belong to
the ancient days of Scotland's glory. After the circle was
formed, Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, of that ilk, colonel in the
service, etc. etc. etc., came before the Prince, attended by Mr.
D. Macwheeble, the Bailie of his ancient barony of Bradwardine
(who, we understand, has been lately named a commissary),
and, under form of instrument, claimed permission to perform,
to the person of his Eoyal Highness, as representing his father,
the service used and wont, for which, under a charter of Robert
Bruce (of which the original was produced and inspected by
the Masters of his Royal Highness's Chancery, for the time
being), the claimant held the barony of Bradwardine, and lands
of Tully-Veolan. His claim being admitted and registered, his
Royal Highness having placed his foot upon a cushion, the
Baron of Bradwardine, kneeling upon his right knee, proceeded
to undo the latchet of the brogue, or low-heeled Highland shoe,
which our gallant young hero wears in compliment to his brave
followers. When this was performed, his Royal Highness
declared the ceremony completed ; and embracing the gallant
veteran, protested that nothing but compliance with an ordi-
nance of Robert Bruce could have induced him to receive even
the symbolical performance of a menial office from hands which
had fought so bravely to put the crown upon the head of his
father. The Baron of Bradwardine then took instruments in
the hands of Mr. Commissary Macwheeble, bearing, that all
points and circumstances of the act of homage had been rite
et solenniter acta et peracta ; and a corresponding entry was
made in the protocol of the Lord High Chamberlain, and in
the record of Chancery. We understand that it is in contem-
plation of his Royal Highness, when his Majesty's pleasure can
be known, to raise Colonel Bradwardine to the peerage, by the
title of Viscount Bradwardine, of Bradwardine and Tully-
Veolan, and that, in the meanwhile, his Royal Highness, in his

WAVERLEY. 321

father's name and authority, has been pleased to grant hun
an honourable augmentation to his paternal coat of arm, being
a budget or boot-jack, disposed saltier- wise with a naked broad-
sword, to be borne in the dexter cantle of the shield ; and, as
an additional motto, on a scroll beneath, the words, ^ Draw
arid Draw off.^ "

"Were it not for the recollection of Fergus's raillery,"
thought Waverley to himself, when he had perused this long
and grave dociunent, " how very tolerable would all this sound,
and how little should I have thought of connecting it with any
ludicrous idea ! Well, after all, every thing has its fair, as
well as its seamy side ; and truly I do not see why the Baron's
boot-jack may not stand as fair in heraldry as the water-
buckets, waggons, cart-wheels, plough-socks, shuttles, candle-
sticks, and other ordinaries, conveying ideas of any thing save
chivalry, which appear in the arms of some of our most ancient
gentry." — This, however, is an episode in respect to the princi-
pal story.

When Waverley returned to Preston, and rejoined Colonel
Talbot, he found him recovered from the strong and obvious
emotions with which a concurrence of unpleasing events had
affected him. He had regained his natural manner, which was
that of an English gentleman and soldier, manly, open, and
generous, but not unsusceptible of prejudice against those of
a different country, or who opposed him in political tenets.
When Waverley acquainted Colonel Talbot with the Chevalier's
purpose to commit him to his charge, "I did not think to have
owed so much obligation to that young gentleman," he said,
"as is implied in this destination. I can at least cheerfully
join in the prayer of the honest Presbyterian clergyman, that,
as he has come among us seeking an earthly crown, his labours
may be. speedily rewarded with a heavenly one.* I shall
willingly give my parole not to attempt an escape without your
knowledge, since, in fact, it was to meet you that I came to
Scotland; and I am glad it has happened even under this
predicament. But I suppose we shall be but a short time together.

* The clergyman's name was Mac- Vicar. Protected by the cannon of
the Castle, he preached every Sunday in the West Kirk, while the High-
landers were in possession of Edinburgh ; and it was in presence of some
of the Jacobites that he prayed for Prince Charles Edward in the terms
quoted in the text.

vol.. T. y

322 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Your Chevalier (that is a name we may both give to him), with
his plaids and blue-caps, will, I presume, be continuing his crusade
southward?"

" Not as I hear ; I believe the army makes some stay in
Edinburgh, to collect reinforcements."

"And to besiege the Castle'?" said Talbot, smiling sarcas-
tically. "Well, unless my old commander. General Preston,
turn false metal, or the Castle sink into the- North Loch, events
which I deem equally probable, I think we shall have some
time to make up our acquaintance, I have a guess that this
gallant Chevalier has a design that I should be your proselyte j
and, as I wish you to be mine, there cannot be a more fair pro-
posal than to afford us fair conference together. But as I
spoke to-day under the influence of feelings I rarely give way
to, I hope you will excuse my entering again upon controversy
till we are somewhat better acquainted."

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIRST-

INTEIGUE OF LOVE AND POLITICS.

It is not necessary to record in these pages the triumphant
entrance of the Chevalier into Edinburgh after the decisive
affair of Preston. One circumstance, however, may be noticed,
because it illustrates the high spirit of Flora Mac-Ivor. The
Highlanders, by whom the Prince was surrounded, in the license
and extravagance of this joyful moment, fired their pieces
repeatedly, and one of these having been accidentally loaded
with ball, the bullet grazed the young lady's temple as she
waved her handkerchief from a balcony.* Fergus, who beheld
the accident, was at her side in an instant ; and, on seeing that
the wound was trifling, he drew his broadsword, with the
purpose of rushing down upon the man by whose carelessness
she had incurred so much danger, when, holding him by the
plaid, " Do not harm the poor fellow," she cried ; " for Heaven's
sake do not harm him ! but thank God with me that the
accident happened to Flora Mac-Ivor ; for had it befallen a

• Note Y Miss Nairne.

WA\Ti:RLEY. 82S

Whig, they would have pretended that the shot was fired ou
purpose."

Waverley escaped the alarm which this accident would have
occasioned to him, as he was unavoidably delayed by the neces-
sity of accompanying Colonel Talbot to Edinburgh.

They performed the journey together on horseback, and for
some time, as if to sound each other's feelings and sentiments,
they conversed upon general and ordinary topics.

When Waverley again entered upon the subject which he had
most at heart, the situation, namely, of his father and his uncle,
Colonel Talbot seemed now rather desirous to alleviate than to
aggravate his anxiety. This appeared particularly to be the
case when he heard Waverley's history, which he did not
scruple to confide to him.

" And so," said the Colonel, " there has been no malice pre-
pense, as lawyers, I think, term it, in this rash step of yours ;
and you have been trepanned into the service of this Italian
knight-errant by a few civil speeches from him, and one or two
of his Highland recruiting sergeants 1 It is sadly foolish, to be
sure, but not nearly so bad as I was led to expect. However,
you cannot desert, even from the Pretender, at the present
moment, — that seems impossible. But I have little doubt that,
in the dissensions incident to this heterogeneous mass of wild
and desperate men, some opportimity may arise, by availing
yourself of which, you may extricate yourself honourably from
your rash engagement before the bubble burst. If this can be
managed, I would have you go to a place of safety in Flanders,
which I shall poiat out. And I think I can secure your pardon
from Government after a few months' residence abroad."

" I cannot permit you. Colonel Talbot," answered Waverley,
" to speak of any plan which turns on my deserting an enterprise
in which I may have engaged hastily, but certainly voluntarily,
and with the purpose of abiding the issue."

" Well," said Colonel Talbot, smiling, " leave me my thoughts
and hopes at least at liberty, if not my speech. But have you
never examined your mysterious packet ?"

" It is in my baggage," replied Edward ; " we shaU find it in
Edinburgh."

In Edinburgh they soon arrived. Waverley's quarters had
been assigned to him, by the Prince's express orders, in a hand-
some lodging, where there was accommodation for Colonel

324 WAVEELEY NOVELS.

Talbot. His first business was to examine his portmanteau,
and, after a very short search, out tumbled the expected packet.
Waverley opened it eagerly. Under a blank cover, simply
addressed to E. Waverley, Esq., he found a number of open
letters. The uppermost were two from Colonel Gardiner,
addressed to himself. The earliest in date was a kind and
gentle remonstrance for neglect of the writer's advice respecting
the disposal of his time during his leave of absence, — ^the renewal
of which, he reminded Captain Waverley, would speedily expire.
"Indeed," the letter proceeded, "had it been otherwise, the
news from abroad, and my instructions from the War-office,
must have compelled me to recall it, as there is great danger,
since the disaster in Flanders, both of foreign invasion and
insurrection among the disaffected at home. I therefore entreat
you will repair, as soon as possible, to the head-quarters of the
regiment; and I am concerned to add, that this is still the
more necessary, as there is some discontent in your troop, and
I postpone inquiry into particulars until I can have the advan-
tage of your assistance."

The second letter, dated eight days later, was in such a style
as might have been expected from the Colonel's receiving no
answer to the first. It reminded Waverley of his duty as a
man of honour, an officer, and a Briton ; took notice of the
increasing dissatisfaction of his men, and that some of them had
been heard to hint that their captain encouraged and approved
of their mutinous behaviour; and, finally the writer expressed
the utmost regret and surprise that he had not obeyed his
commands by repairing to head-quarters, reminded him that
his leave of absence had been recalled, and conjured him, in a
style in which paternal remonstrance was mingled with military
authority, to redeem his error by immediately joining his regi-
ment. " That I may be certain," concluded the letter, " that
this actually reaches you, I despatch it by Corporal Tims, of
your troop, with orders to deliver it into your own hand."

Upon reading these letters, Waverley, with great bitterness
of feeling, was compelled to make the amende honorable to
the memory of the brave and excellent writer; for surely, as
Colonel Gardiner must have had every reason to conclude they
had come safely to hand, less could not follow, on their being
neglected, than that third and final summons, which Waverley
actually received at Glennaquoich, though too late to obey it.

WAVERLEY. 326

And his being superseded, in consequence of his apparent neglect
of this last command, was so far from being a harsh or severe
proceeding, that it was plainly inevitable. The next letter he un-
folded waa from the Major of the regiment, acquainting him
that a report, to the disadvantage of his reputation, was public
in the country, stating, that one Mr. Falconer of Ballihopple, or
some such name, had proposed, in his presence, a treasonable
toast, which he permitted to pass in silence, although it was so
gross an affront to the royal family, that a gentleman in com-
pany, not remarkable for his zeal for government, had never-
theless taken the matter up ; and that, supposing the account
true, Captain Waverley had thus suffered another, comparatively
unconcerned, to resent an affront directed against him personally
as an officer, and to go out with the person by whom it was
offered. The Major concluded, that no one of Captain Waver-
ley's brother-officers could believe this scandalous story, but it
was necessarily their joint opinion, that his own honour, equally
with that of the regiment, depended upon its being instantly
contradicted by his authority, etc. etc. etc.

"What do you think of all this?" said Colonel Talbot, to
whom Waverley handed the letters after he had perused them.

" Think ! it renders thought impossible. It is enough to drive
me mad."

" Be calm, my young friend ; let us see what are these dirty
scrawls that follow."

The first was addressed, " For Master W. Ruffin These,"

" Dear sur, sum of our yong gulpins will not bite, thof I tuold
them you shoed me the squoires own seel. But Tims will deliver
you the lettrs as desired, and tell ould Addem he gave them to
squoir's bond, as to be sure yours is the same, and shall be ready
for signal, and hoy for Hoy Church and Sachefrel,* as fadur sings
at harvest whome. Yours, deer sur, H. H.

" Poscriff. Do'e tell squoire we longs to heer from him, and
has dootings about his not writing himself, and Lieftenant
Bottler is smoky."

" This Ruffin, I suppose, then, is your Donald of the Cavern,
who has intercepted your letters, and carried on a correspondence
with the poor devil Houghton, as if under your authority 1"

* [Henry Sacheverell, D.D., was a violent high-churchman, who, in
1710, was impeached for an attack made on the Godolphin Whig ministry
He afterwards became very popular.

326 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" It seems too true. But who can Addem be ?"

" Possibly Adam, for poor Gardiner, a sort of pun on his
name."

The other letters were to the same purpose, and they soon
received yet more complete light upon Donald Bean's machi-
nations.

John Hodges, one of Waverley's servants, who had remained
with the regiment, and had been taken at Preston, now made
his appearance. He had sought out his master, with the purpose
of again entering his service. From this fellow they learned, that,
some time after Waverley had gone from the head-quarters of
the regiment, a pedlar, called Ruthven, Rufl&n, or Rivane,
known among the soldiers by the name of Wily Will, had made
frequent visits to the town of Dundee. He appeared to possess
plenty of money, sold his commodities very cheap, seemed
always willing to treat his friends at the ale-house, and easily
ingratiated himself with many of Waverley's troop, particularly
Sergeant Houghton, and one Tims, also a non-commissioned
ofl&cer. To these he unfolded, in Waverley's name, a plan for
leaving the regiment, and joining him in the Highlands, where
report said the clanis had already taken arms in great numbers.
The men, who had been educated as Jacobites, so far as they
had any opinion at all, and who knew their landlord. Sir
Everard, had always been supposed to hold such tenets, easily
fell into the snare. That Waverley was at a distance in the
Highlands, was received as a sufficient excuse for transmitting
his letters through the medium of the pedlar ; and the sight of
his well-known seal seemed to authenticate the negotiations in
his name, where writing might have been dangerous. The
cabal, however, began to take air, from the premature mutinous
language of those concerned. Wily Will justified his appellative ;
for, after suspicion arose, he was seen no more. When the
Gazette appeared, in which Waverley was superseded, great part
of his troop broke out into actual mutiny, but were surrounded
and disarmed by the rest of the regiment. In consequence of
the sentence of a court-martial, Houghton and Tims were con-
demned to be shot, but afterwards permitted to cast lots for
life. Houghton, the survivor, showed much penitence, being
convinced from the rebukes and explanations of Colonel
Gardiner, that he had reaUy engaged in a very heinous crime.
It is remarkable, that, as soon as the poor fellow was satisfied

WAVERLEY. 827

of this, he became also convinced that the instigator had acted
without authority from Edward, saying, "If it was dishonour-
able and against Old England, the squire could know nought
about it ; he never did, or thought to do, anything dishonour-
able,— no more didn't Sir Everard, nor none of them afore him,
and in that belief he would live and die that Ruffin had done
it all of his own head."

The strength of conviction with which he expressed himself
upon the subject, as well as his assurances that the letters
intended for Waverley had been delivered to Ruthven, made
that revolution in Colonel Gardiner's opinion which he ex-
pressed to Talbot.

The reader has long since understood that Donald Bean
Lean played the part of tempter on this occasion. His motives
were shortly these. Of an active and intriguing spirit, he had
been long employed as a subaltern agent and spy by those in.
the confidence of the Chevalier, to an extent beyond what was
suspected even by Fergus Mac-Ivor, whom, though obliged to
him for protection, he regarded with fear and dislike. To
success in this political department, he naturally looked for
raising himself by some bold stroke above his present hazardous
and precarious state of rapine. He was particularly employed
in learning the strength of the regiments in Scotland, the
character of the officers, etc., and had long had his eye upon
Waverley's troop, as open to temptation. Donald even believed
that Waverley himself was at bottom in the Stuart interest,
which seemed confirmed by his long visit to the Jacobite Baron
of Bradwardine. When, therefore, he came to his cave with
one of Glennaquoich's attendants, the robber, who could never
appreciate his real motive, which was mere curiosity, was so
sanguine as to hope that his own talents were to be employed
in some intrigue of consequence under the auspices of this
wealthy young Englishman. Nor was he undeceived by
Waverley's neglecting all hints and openings for an explanation.
His conduct passed for prudent reserve, and somewhat piqued
Donald Bean, who, supposing himself left out of a secret
where confidence promised to be advantageous, determined to
have his share in the drama, whether a regular part were
assigned him or not. For this purpose, during Waverley's
sleep, he possessed himself of his seal, as a token to be used to
any of the troopers whom he might discover to be possessed of

328 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

the captain's confidence. His first journey to Dundee, the town
where the regiment was quartered, undeceived him in his
original supposition, but opened to him a new field of action.
He knew there would be no service so well rewarded by the
friends of the Chevalier, as seducing a part of the regular army
to his standard. For this purpose, he opened the machinations
with which the reader is already acquainted, and which form a
clue to all the intricacies and obscurities of the narrative
previous to Waverley's leaving Glennaquoich.

By Colonel Talbot's advice, Waverley declined detaining in
his service the lad whose evidence had thrown additional light
on these intrigues. He represented to him that it would be
doing the man an injury to engage him in a desperate under-
taking, and that, whatever should happen, his evidence would
go some length, at least, in explaining the circumstances under
which Waverley himself had embarked in it. Waverley there-
fore wrote a short statement of what had happened, to his
uncle and his father, cautioning them, however, in the present
circumstances, not to attempt to answer his letter. Talbot then
gave the young man a letter to the commander of one of the
English vessels of war cruising in the firth, requesting him to
put the bearer ashore at Berwick, with a pass to proceed to

shire. He was then furnished with money to make an

expeditious journey, and directed to get on board the ship by
means of bribing a fishing-boat, which, as they afterwards
learned, he easily effected.

Tired of the attendance of Callum Beg, who, he thought,
had some disposition to act as a spy on his motions, Waverley
hired as a servant, a simple Edinburgh swain, who had mounted
the white cockade in a fit of spleen and jealousy, because Jenny
Jop had danced a whole night with Corporal Bullock of the
Fusileers.

WAVERLEY. 329

CHAPTER FIFTY-SECOND.

INTRIGUES OF SOCIETY AND LOVE

Colonel Talbot became more kindly in his demeanoui
towards Waverley after the confidence he had reposed in him ;
and as they were necessarily much together, the character of
the Colonel rose in Waverley's estimation. There seemed at
first something harsh in his strong expressions of dislike and
censure, although no one was in the general case more open to
conviction. The habit of authority had also given his manners
some peremptory hardness, notwithstanding the polish which
they had received from his intimate acquaintance with the
higher circles. As a specimen of the military character, he
differed from all whom Waverley had as yet seen. The soldier-
ship of the Baron of Bradwardine was marked by pedantry;
that of Major Melville by a sort of martinet attention to the
minutiae and technicalities of discipline, rather suitable to one
who was to manoeuvre a battalion, than to him who was to
command an army ; the military spirit of Fergus was so much
warped and blended with his plans and political views, that it
was less that of a soldier than of a petty sovereign. But Colonel
Talbot was in every point the English soldier. His whole soul
was devoted to the service of his king and country, without
feeling any pride in knowing the theory of his art, with the
Baron, or its practical minutiae with the Major, or in applying
his science to his own particular plans of ambition, like the
Chieftain of Glennaquoich. Added to this, he was a man of
extended knowledge and cultivated taste, although strongly
tinged, as we have already observed, with those prejudices which
are peculiarly English.

The character of Colonel Talbot dawned upon Edward by
degrees ; for the delay of the Highlanders in the fruitless siege of
Edinburgh Castle occupied several weeks, during which Waverley
had little to do, excepting to seek such amusement as society
afforded. He would willingly have persuaded his new friend to
become acquainted with some of his former intimates. But the
Colonel, after one or two visits, shook his head, and declined
farther experiment. Indeed he went farther, and chai'acterised
the Baron as the most intolerable formal pedant he had ever

330 WAVEKLEY NOVELS.

had the misfortune to meet with, and the Chief of Glennaquoich
as a Frenchified Scotchman, possessing all the cunning and
plausibility of the nation where he was educated, with the proud,
vindictive, and tiu-bulent humour of that of his birth. "If
the devil," he said, " had sought out an agent expressly for the
purpose of embroUing this miserable country, I do not think
he could find a better than such a fellow as this, whose temper
seems equally active, supple, and mischievous, and who is fol-
lowed, and implicitly obeyed, by a gang of such cut-throats as
those whom you are pleased to admire so much."

The ladies of the party did not escape his censure. He
allowed that Flora Mac-Ivor was a fine woman, and Rose Brad-
wardine a pretty girl. But he alleged that the former destroyed
the effect of her beauty by an affectation of the grand airs which
she had probably seen practised at the mock court of St. Ger-
mains. As for Rose Bradwardine, he said it was impossible for
any mortal to admire such a little uninformed thing, whose
small portion of education was as ill adapted to her sex or youth,
as if she had appeared with one of her father's old campaign-
coats upon her person for her sole garment. Now much of this
was mere spleen and prejudice in the excellent Colonel, with
whom the white cockade on the breast, the white rose in the
hair, and the Mac at the beginning of a name, would have made
a devil out of an angel ; and indeed he himself jocularly allowed
that he could not have endured Venus herself, if she had been
announced in a drawing-room by the name of Miss Mac-Jupiter.

Waverley, it may easily be believed, looked upon these young
ladies with very different eyes. During the period of the siege,
he paid them almost daily visits, although he observed with
regret that his suit made as little progress in the affections of
the former as the arms of the Chevalier in subduing the fortress.
She maintained with rigour the rule she had laid down of treat-
ing him with indifference, without either affecting to avoid him,
or to shun intercourse with him. Every word, every look was
strictly regulated to accord with her system, and neither the
dejection of Waverley, nor the anger which Fergus scarcely
suppressed^ could extend Flora's attention to Edward beyond
that which the most ordinary politeness demanded. On the
other hand, Rose Bradwardine gradually rose in Waverle/s
opinion. He had several opportunities of remarking, that, ae
her extreme timidity wore off, her manners received a highei

I

WAVERLEY. 331

character ; that the agitating circumstances of the stormy time
seemed to call forth a certain dignity of feeling and expression,
which he had not formerly observed ; and that she omitted no
opportunity within her reach to extend her knowledge and refine
her taste.

Flora Mac-Ivor called Rose her pupil, and was attentive to
assist her in her studies, and to fashion both her taste and
understanding. It might have been remarked by a very close
observer, that in the presence of Waverley she was much more
desirous to exhibit her friend's excellences than her own. But
I must request of the reader to suppose, that this kind and dis-
interested purpose was concealed by the most cautious delicacy,
studiously shunning the most distant approach to afiecta-
tion. So that it was as unlike the usual exhibition of one
pretty woman afiecting to proner another, as the friendship of
David and Jonathan might be to the intimacy of two Bond
Street loungers. The fact is, that, though the effect was felt,
the cause could hardly be observed. Each of the ladies, like
two excellent actresses, were perfect in their parts, and performed
them to the delight of the audience ; and such being the case,
it was almost impossible to discover that the elder constantly
ceded to her friend that which was most suitable to her talents.

But to Waverley, Rose Bradwardine possessed an attraction
which few men can resist, from the marked interest which she
took in everything that affected him. She was too young and
too inexperienced to estimate the full force of the constant
attention which she paid to him. Her father was too abstract-
edly immersed in learned and military discussions to observe her
partiality, and Flora Mac-Ivor did not alarm her by remons-
trance, because she saw in this line of conduct the most probable
chance of her friend securing at length a return of affection.

The truth is, that, in her first conversation after their
meeting. Rose had discovered the state of her mind to that
acute and intelligent friend, although she was not herself aware
of it. From that time. Flora was not only determined upon
the final rejection of Waverley's addresses, but became anxious
that they should, if possible, be transferred to her friend. Nor
was she less interested in this plan, though her brother had
from time to time talked, as between jest and earnest, of pay-
ing his suit to Miss Bradwardine. She knew that Fergus had
the true continental latitude of opinion respecting the institution

^^^ WAVEELEY NOVELS.

of marriage, and would not have given Ms hand to an angel,
unless for the purpose of strengthening his alliances, and in-
creasing his influence and wealth. The Baron's whim, of trans-
ferring his estate to the distant heir-male instead of his own
daughter, was therefore likely to be an insurmountable obstacle
to his entertaining any serious thoughts of Rose Bradwardine.
Indeed, Fergus's brain was a perpetual workshop of scheme and
intrigue of every possible kind and description ; while, like
many a mechanic of more ingenuity than steadiness, he would
often unexpectedly, and without any apparent motive, abandon
one plan, and go earnestly to work upon another, which was
either fresh from the forge of his imagination, or had at some
former period been flung aside half finished. It was therefore
often difficult to guess what line of conduct he might finally
adopt upon any given occasion.

Although Flora was sincerely attached to her brother, whose
high energies might indeed have commanded her admiration
even without the ties which bound them together, she was by
no means blind to his faults, which she considered as dangerous
to the hopes of any woman who should found her ideas of a
happy marriage in the peaceful enjoyment of domestic society,
and the exchange of mutual and engrossing affection. The
real disposition of Waverley, on the other hand, notwithstand-
ing his dreams of tented fields and military honour, seemed
exclusively domestic. He asked and received no share in the
busy scenes which were constantly going on around him, and
was rather annoyed than interested by the discussion of con-
tending claims, rights, and interests, which often passed in his
presence. All this pointed him out as the person formed to
make happy a spirit like that of Rose, which corresponded with
his own.

She remarked this point in Waverley's character one day
while she sat with Miss Bradwardine. "His genius and
elegant taste," answered Rose, " cannot be interested in such
trifling discussions. What is it to him, for example, whether
the CJiief of the Macindallaghers, who has brought out only
fifty men, should be a colonel or a captain'? and how could
Mr. Waverley be supposed to interest himself in the violent
altercation between your brother and young Corrinaschian,
whether the post of honour is due to the eldest cadet of a clau
or the youngest?"

WAVERLEY. S38

" My dear Rose, if he were the hero you suppose him, he
would interest himself in these matters, not indeed as important
in themselves, but for the purpose of mediating between the
ardent spirits who actually do make them the subject of discord.
You saw when Corrinaschian raised his voice in great passion,
and laid his hand upon his sword, Waverley lifted his head as
if he had just awaked from a dream, and asked, with great
composure, what the matter was."

" Well, and did not the laughter they fell into at his absence
of mind, serve better to break off the dispute than any thing he
could have said to them 1 "

" True, my dear," answered Flora ; " but not quite so credit-
ably for Waverley as if he had brought them to their senses by
force of reason."

" Would you have him peace-maker general between all the
gunpowder Highlanders in the army 1 I beg your pardon, Flora
— your brother, you know, is out of the question ; he has more
sense than half of them. But can you think the fierce, hot,
furious spirits, of whose brawls we see much, and hear more,
and who terrify me out of my life every day in the world, are
at all to be compared to Waverley ? "

" I do not compare him with those uneducated men, my dear
Rose. I only lament, that, with his talents and genius, he does
not assume that place in society for which they eminently fit
him, and that he does not lend their full impulse to the noble
cause in which he has enlisted. Are there not Lochiel, and
P , and M , and G , all men of the highest educa-
tion, as well as the first talents % — why will he not stoop like
them to be alive and useftd 1 — I often believe his zeal is frozen
by that proud cold-blooded Englishman, whom he now lives
with so much."

" Colonel Talbot 1 — he is a very disagreeable person, to be
sure. He looks as if he thought no Scottish woman worth the
trouble of handing her a cup of tea. But Waverley is so gentle,
so well informed"

" Yes," said Flora, smiling ; " he can admire the moon, and
quote a stanza from Tasso."

" Besides, you know how he fought," added Miss Bradwardine.

" For mere fighting," answered Flora, " I believe all men
(that is, who deserve the name) are pretty much alike ; there
]b generally more courage required to run away. They have.

334 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

besides, when confronted with each other, a certain instmct for
strife, as we see in other male animals, such as dogs, bulls, and
so forth. But high and perilous enterprise is not Waverley's
forte. He would never have been his celebrated ancestor Sir
Nigel, but only Sir Nigel's eulogist and poet. I will tell you
where he will be at home, my dear, and in his place, — in the
quiet circle of domestic happiness, lettered indolence, and
elegant enjoyments, of Waverley-Honour. And he will refit
the old library in the most exquisite Gothic taste, and garnish
its shelves with the rarest and most valuable volumes ; and he
will draw plans and landscapes, and write verses, and rear
temples, and dig grottoes ; — and he will stand in a clear summer
night in the colonnade before the hall, and gaze on the deer as
they stray in the moonlight, or lie shadowed by the boughs of
the huge old fantastic oaks ; — and he will repeat verses to his
beautiful wife, who will hang upon his arm ; — and he will be a
happy man."

" Ajid she will be a happy woman," thought poor Rose. But
she only sighed, and dropped the conversation.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THIRD.

FERGUS A SUITOR.

Waverley had, indeed, as he looked closer into the state of
the Chevalier's Court, less reason to be satisfied with it. It
contained, as they say an acorn includes all the ramifications
of the future oak, as many seeds of tracasserie and intrigue as
might have done honour to the Court of a large empire. Every
person of consequence had some separate object, which he piu--
sued with a fury that Waverley considered as altogether dispro-
portioned to its importance. Almost all had their reasons for
discontent, although the most legitimate was that of the worthy
old Baron, who was only distressed on account of the common
cause.

" We shall hardly," said he one morning to Waverley, when
they had been viewing the Castle, — " we shall hardly gain the
obsidional crown, which you wot weU was made of the roots or
grain which takes root within the place besieged, or it may be

WAVERLEY. 335

of the herb woodbme, paretaria, or pellitory ; we shall uot, I
say, gain it by this same blockade or leaguer of Edinburgh
Castle." For this opinion he gave most learned and satisfactory
reasons, that the reader may not care to hear repeated.

Having escaped from the old gentleman, Waverley went to
Fergus's lodgings by appointment, to await his return from
Holyrood-House. "I am to have a particular audience to-
morrow," said Fergus to Waverley, overnight, " and you must
meet me to wish me joy of the success which I securely antici-
pate."

The morrow came, and in the Chief's apartment he found
Ensign Maccombich waiting to make report of his turn of duty
in a sort of ditch which they had dug across the Castle-hill, and
called a trench. In a short time the Chief's voice was heard
on the stair in a tone of impatient fury : — " Callum, — why,
Callum Beg, — Diaoul !" He entered the room with all the
marks of a man agitated by a towering passion ; and there were
few upon whose features rage produced a more violent eifect.
The veins of his forehead swelled when he was in such agitation ;
his nostril became dilated ; his cheek and eye inflamed ; and
his look that of a demoniac. These appearances of half-sup
pressed rage were the more frightful, because they were obvi
ously caused by a strong effort to temper with discretion an
almost ungovernable paroxysm of passion, and resulted from an
internal conflict of the most dreadful kind, which agitated his
whole frame of mortality.

As he entered the apartment, he unbuckled his broadsword,
and throwing it down with such violence that the weapon rolled
to the other end of the room, " I know not what," he exclaimed,
" withholds me from taking a solemn oath that I will never
more draw it in his cause. Load my pistols, Callum, and bring
them hither instantly; — instantly." Callum, whom nothing
ever startled, dismayed, or disconcerted, obeyed very coolly.
Evan Dhu, upon whose brow the suspicion that his Chief had
been insulted, called up a corresponding storm, swelled in sullen
silence, awaiting to learn where or upon whom vengeance was
to descend.

" So, Waverley, you are there," said the Chief, after a
moment's recollection ; — " Yes, I remember I asked you to
share my triumph, and you have come to witness my — disap-
pointment we shall call it." Evan now presented the written

336 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

report he had in his hand, which Fergus threw from him with
great passion. " I wish to God," he said, " the old den would
tumble down upon the heads of the fools who attack, and the
knaves who defend it ! I see, Waverley, you think I am mad —
leave us, Evan, but be within call."

" The Colonel's in an unco kippage," said Mrs. Flockhart to
Evan, as he descended ; " I wish he may be weel, — the very
veins on his brent brow are swelled like whip-cord ; wad he no
tak something?"

" He usually lets blood for these fits," answered the Highland
ancient with great composure.

When this ofl&cer left the room, the Chieftain gradually
reassumed some degree of composure. — " I know, Waverley,"
he said, " that Colonel Talbot has persuaded you to curse ten
times a-day your engagement with us ; — nay, never deny it, for
I am at this moment tempted to curse my own. Would you
believe it, I made this very morning two suits to the Prince,
and he has rejected them both : what do you think of it V

" What can I think," answered Waverley, " tiU I know what
your requests were V

" Why, what signifies what they were, man 1 I tell you it
was I that made them, — I, to whom he owes more than to any
three who have joined the standard ; for I negotiated the whole
business, and brought in all the Perthshire men when not one
would have stirred. I am not likely, I think, to ask any thing
very unreasonable, and if I did they might have stretched a
point. — Well, but you shall know all, now that I can draw my
breath again with some freedom. — You remember my earl's
patent ; it is dated some years back, for services then rendered ;
and certainly my merit has not been diminished, to say the least,
by my subsequent behaviour. Now sir, I value this bauble of
a coronet as little as you can, or any philosopher on earth ; for
I hold that the chief of such a clan as the Sliochd nan Ivor is
superior in rank to any earl in Scotland. But I had a particular
reason for assuming this cursed title at this time. You must
know, that I learned accidentally that the Prince has been
pressing that old foolish Baron of Bradwardine to disinherit hi«
male heir, or nineteenth or twentieth cousin, who has taken a
command in the Elector of Hanover's militia, and to settle his
estate upon your pretty little friend Rose ; and this, as being
the command of his king and overlord, who may alter the desti-

WAVERLKY. 337

nation of a fief at pleasure, the old gentleman seems well recon-
ciled to."

" And what becomes of the homage ?"

" Curse the homage ! — I believe Rose is to pull off the queen's
slipper on her coronation-day, or some such trash. Well, sir, as
Rose Bradwardine would always have made a suitable match
for me, but for this idiotioal predilection of her father for the
heir-male, it occurred to me there now remained no obstacle,
unless that the Baron might expect his daughter's husband to
take the name of Bradwardine (which you know would be im-
possible in my case), and that this might be evaded by my
assuming the title to which I had so good a right, and which,
of course, would supersede that difficulty. If she was to be also
Viscountess Bradwardine in her own right, after her father's
demise, so much the better ; I could have no objection."

" But, Fergus," said Waverley, " I had no idea that you had
any affection for Miss Bradwai-dine, and you are always sneering
at her father."

" I have as much affection for Miss Bradwardine, my good
friend, as I think it necessary to have for the future mistress of
my family, and the mother of my children. She is a very
pretty, intelligent girl, and is certainly of one of the very first
Lowland families ; and, with a little of Flora's instructions and
forming, will make a very good figure. As to her father, he is
an original, it is true, and an absurd one enough ; but he has
given such severe lessons to Sir Hew Halbert, that dear defunct
the Laird of Balmawhapple, and others, that nobody dare laugh
at him, so his absurdity goes for nothing. I tell you there could
have been no earthly objection — none. I had settled the thing
entirely in my own mind."

"But had you asked the Baron's consent," said Waverley,
"or Rose's?"

" To what purpose 1 To have spoke to the Baron before I
had assumed my title would have only provoked a premature
and irritating discussion on the subject of the change of name,
when, as Earl of Glennaquoich, I had only to propose to him to
carry his d — d bear and boot-jack party per pale, or in a
scutcheon of pretence, or in a separate shield perhaps — any way
that would not blemish my own coat-of-arms. And as to Rose,
I don't see what objection she could have made, if her father
was satisfied."

vor., L 2

338 WAVEELEY NOVELS. .

"Perhaps the same that your sister makes to me, you being
satisfied."

Fergus gave a broad stare at tlie comparison which this
supposition implied, but cautiously suppressed the answer which
rose to his tongue. "0, we should easily have arranged aU
that. — So, sir, I craved a private interview, and this morning
was assigned ; and I asked you to meet me here, thinking, like
a fool, that I should want your coimtenance as bride's-man.
Well — I state my pretensions — they are not denied j the pro-
mises so repeatedly made, and the patent granted — they are
acknowledged. But I propose, as a natural consequence, to
assume the rank which the patent bestowed — I have the old

story of the jealousy of C and M trumped up against

me — I resist this pretext, and ofier to procure their written
acquiescence, in virtue of the date of my patent as prior to their
silly claims — I assure you I would have had such a consent
from them, if it had been at the point of the sword. And then,
out comes the real truth ; and he dares to tell me, to my face,
that my patent must be suppressed for the present, for fear of
disgusting that rascally coward and faineant — (naming the
rival chief of his own clan) — who has no better title to be a
chieftain than I to be Emperor of China ; and who is pleased
to shelter his dastardly reluctance to come out, agreeable to his
promise twenty times pledged, under a pretended jealousy of
the Prince's partiality to me. And, to leave this miserable
driveller without a pretence for his cowardice, the Prince asks
it as a personal favour of me, forsooth, not to press my just and
reasonable request at this moment. After this, put your faith
in princes ! "

" And did your audience end here ?"

" End ? 0 no ! I was determiDed to leave him no pretence
for his ingratitude, and I therefore stated, with all the compo-
sure I could muster, — for I promise you I trembled with passion,
— the particular reasons I had for wishing that his Eoyal
Highness would impose upon me any other mode of exhibiting
my duty and devotion, as my views in life made, what at any
other time would have been a mere trifle, at this crisis a severe
sacrifice ; and then I explained to him my full plan."

" And what did the Prince answer V

"Answer? why— -it is well it is written, Curse not the king;
uo, uot in thy thought I — why, he answered, that truly he was

WAVERLEY. 339

glad I had made him my confidant, to prevent more grievous
disappointment, for he could assure me, upon the word of a
prince, that Miss Bradwardine's affections were engaged, and he
was under a particular promise to favour them. ' So, my dear
Fergus,' said he, with his most gracious cast of smile, ' as the
marriage is utterly out of question, there need be no hurry,
you know, about the earldom.' And so he glided oflF, and left
me plante Zd."

"And what did you do?"

" I'll tell you what I could have done at that moment — sold
myself to the devil or the Elector, whichever offered the dearest
revenge. However, I am now cool. I know he intends to
marry her to some of his rascally Frenchmen, or his Irish
ofl&cers : but I will watch them close ; and let the man that
would supplant me look well to himself — Bisogna coprirsi.
Signor."

After some further conversation, uimecessary to be detailed,
Waverley took leave of the Chieftain, whose fury had now
subsided into a deep and strong desire of vengeance, and
returned home, scarce able to analyze the mixture of feelings
which the narrative had awakened inJiia_own^bosom.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOURTH.

" TO ONE THING CONSTANT NEVER."

"I AM the very child of caprice," said Waverley to himself,
as he bolted the door of his apartment, and paced it with hasty
steps. — " What is it to me that Fergus Mac-Ivor should wish
to marry Rose Bradwardine? — I love her not. — I might have
been loved by her, perhaps ; but I rejected her simple, natural,
and afiecting attachment, instead of cherishing it into tenderness,
and dedicated myself to one who will never love mortal man,
unless old Warwick, the King-maker, should arise from the
dead. The Baron, too — I would not have cared about his
estate, and so the name would have been no stumbling-block.
The devil might have taken the barren moors, and drawn off
the royal caligce, for anything I would have minded. But,
framed as she is for domestic affection and tenderness, for

340 WAVEKLEY NOVELS.

giving and receiving all those kind and quiet attentions which
sweeten life to those who pass it together, she is sought by
Fergus Mac-Ivor. He wiU not use her ill, to be sure — of that
he is incapable — but he will neglect her after the first month ;
he will be too intent on subduing some rival chieftain, or
circumventing some favourite at court, on gaining some heathy
hill and lake, or adding to his bands some new troop of caterans,
to inquire what she does, or how she amuses herself.

And then will canker sorrow eat her bud,
And chase the native beauty from her cheek ;
And she will look as hollow as a ghost,
And dim and meagre as an ague fit,
And so she'll die.

And such a catastrophe of the most gentle creature on earth
might have been prevented, if Mr. Edward Waverley had had
his eyes ! Upon my word, I cannot understand how I thought
Flora so much — that is, so very much — handsomer than Eose.
She is taller, indeed, and her manner more formed ; but many
people think Miss Bradwardine's more natural; and she is
certainly much younger. I should think Flora is two years
older than I am — I will look at them particularly this evening."

And with this resolution, Waverley went to drink tea (as
the fashion was Sixty years since) at the house of a lady ot
quality attached to the cause of the Chevalier, where he found,
as he expected, both the ladies. All rose as he entered, but
Flora inmiediately resumed her place, and the conversation
in which she was engaged. Rose, on the contrary, almost
imperceptiby, made a little way in the crowded circle for his
advancing the comer of a chair. "Her manner, upon the
whole, is most engaging," said Waverley to himself.

A dispute occurred whether the Gaelic or Italian language
was most liquid, and best adapted for poetry ; the opinion for
the Gaelic, which probably might not have found supporters
elsewhere, was here fiercely defended by seven Highland ladies,
who talked at the top of their lungs, and screamed the company
deaf, with examples of Celtic euphmia. Flora observing the
Lowland ladies sneer at the comparison, produced some reasons
to show that it was not altogether so absurd ; but Rose, when
asked for her opinion, gave it with animation, in praise of
Italian, which she had studied with Waverley 's assistance. " She
has a more correct ear than Flora, though a less accomplished

WAVEU.EY. 341

musician," said "Waverley to himself. " I suppose Miss Mac-Ivoi
will next compare Mac-Murrough nan Fonn to Ariosto !"

Lastly, it so befell that the company differed whether Fergus
should be asked to perform on the flute, at which he was an
adept, or Waverley invited to read a play of Shakspeare ; and
the lady of the house good-humouredly undertook to collect
the votes of the company for poetry or music, under the con-
dition, that the gentleman whose talents were not laid under
contribution that evening, should contribute them to enliven the
next. It chanced that Rose had the casting vote. Now Flora,
who seemed to impose it as a rule upon herself never to counten-
ance any proposal which might seem to encourage Waverley, had
voted for music, providing the Baron would take his violin to ac-
company Fergus. " I wish you joy of your taste. Miss Mac-Ivor,"
thought Edv/ard, as they sought for his book. I thought it
better when we were at Glennaquoich ; but certainly the Baron is
no great performer, and Shakespeare is worth listening to."

Romeo and Juliet was selected, and Edward read with taste,
feeling, and spirit, several scenes from that play. AU the
company applauded with their hands, and many with their
tears. Flora, to whom the drama was well known, was among
the former ; Rose, to whom it was altogether new, belonged to
the latter class of admirers. " She has more feeling, too," said
Waverley, internally.

The conversation turning upon the incidents of the play, and
upon the characters, Fergus declared that the only one worth nam-
ing, as a man of fashion and spirit, was Mercutio. " I could
not," he said, " quite follow all his old-fashioned wit, but he must
have been a very pretty fellow, according to the ideas of his time."

" And it was a shame," said Ensign Maccombich, who usually
followed his Colonel everywhere, " for that Tibbert, or Taggart,
or whatever was his name, to stick him under the other
gentleman's arm, while he was redding the fray."

The ladies, of course, declared loudly in favour of Romeo,'
but this opinion did not go undisputedL The mistress of the
house, and several other ladies, severely reprobated the levity
with which the hero transfers his affections from Rosalind to
.luliet. Flora remained silent until her opinion was repeatedly
requested, and then answered, she thought the circumstance
objected to not only reconcilable to nature, but such as in the
highest degree evinced the art of the poet. "Romeo is

342' WAVERLEY NOVELS.

described," said she, " as a young man, peculiarly susceptible
of the softer passions ; his love is at first fixed upon a woman
who could ajfford it no return ; this he repeatedly tells you, —

From love's weak cMdisli bow she lives imliarmed ;
and again, —

She hath forsworn to love.
Now, as it was impossible that Romeo's love, supposing him a
reasonable being, could continue to subsist without hope, the
poet has, with great art, seized the moment when he was
reduced actually to despair, to throw in his way an object more
accomplished than her by whom he had been rejected, and who
is disposed to repay his attachment. I can scarce conceive a
situation more calculated to enhance the ardour of Romeo's
afiection for Juliet, than his being at once raised by her from
the state of drooping melancholy in which he appears first upon
the scene, to the ecstatic state in which he exclaims —

come what sorrow can,

It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
That one short moment gives me in her sight."

" Good, now, Miss Mac-Ivor," said a young lady of quality,
"do you mean to cheat us out of our prerogative? will you
persuade us love cannot subsist without hope, or that the lover
must become fickle if the lady is cruel ? 0 fie ! I did not expect
such an unsentimental conclusion."

" A lover, my dear Lady Betty," said Flora, " may, I conceive,
persevere in his suit, under very discouraging circumstances.
Affection can (now and then) withstand very severe storms
of rigour, but not a long polar frost of downright indifference.
Don't, even with your attractions, try the experiment upon any
. lover whose faith you value. Love will subsist on wonderfully
little hope, but not altogether without it."

" It will be just like Duncan Mac-Girdie's mare," said Evan,
*' if your ladyships please ; he wanted to use her by degrees to
live without meat, and just as he had put her on a straw a-day,
the poor thing died !"

Evan's illustration set the company a-laughing, and the dis-
course took a different turn. Shortly afterwards the party broke
up, and Edward returned home, musing on what Flora had said.
" I will love my Rosalind no more," said he : " she has given me
a broad enough hint for that ; and T will speak to her brother,

WAVEKLEY. 343

and resign my suit. But for a Juliet — would it be handsome
to interfere with Fergus's pretensions 1 — though it is impossible
they can ever succeed : and should they miscarry, what then 1 —
why then alors conume alms" And with this resolution, of being
guided by circumstances, did our hero commit himself to repose.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIFTH.

A BRAVE MAN IN SOEROW.

If my fair readers should be of opinion that my hero's levity
in love is altogether unpardonable, I must remind them that
all his griefs and difficulties did not arise from that sentimental
source. Even the lyric poet, who complains so feelingly of the
pains of love, could not forget, that, at the same time, he was
" in debt and in drink," which, doubtless, were great aggrava-
tions of his distress. There were indeed whole days in which
Waverley thought neither of Flora nor Rose Bradwardine, but'
which were spent in melancholy conjectures on the probable
state of matters at Waverley-Honour, and the dubious issue of
the civil contest in which he was pledged. Colonel Talbot
often engaged him in discussions upon the justice of the cause
he had espoused. " Not," he said, " that it is possible for you
to quit it at this present moment, for, come what will, you must
stand by your rash engagement. But I wish you to be aware
that the right is not with you ; that you are fighting against
the real interests of your country ; and that you ought, as an
Englishman and a patriot, to take the first opportunity to leave
this unhappy expedition before the snow-ball melts."

In such political disputes, Waverley usually opposed the
common arguments of his party, with which it is unnecessaiy
to trouble the reader. But he had little to say when the
Colonel urged him to compare the strength by which they
had undertaken to overthrow the Government with that which was
now assembling very rapidly for its support. To this statement
Waverley had but one answer : " If the cause I have undertaken
be perilous, there would be the greater disgrace in abandoning
it." And in his turn he generally silenced Colonel Talbot, and
succeeded in changing the subject.

344 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

One night, when, after a long dispute of this nature, the
friends had separated, and our hero had retired to bed, he was
awakened about midnight by a suppressed groan. He started
up and listened ; it came from the apartment of Colonel Talbot,
which was divided from his own by a wainscoted partition, with
a door of communication. Waverley approached this door, and
distinctly heard one or two deep drawn sighs. What could be
the matter 1 The Colonel had parted from him, apparently, in
his usual state of spirits. He must have been taken suddenly
ill. Under this impression, he opened the door of communicar
tion very gently, and perceived the Colonel in his night-gown,
seated by a table, on which lay a letter and a picture. He raised
his head hastily, as Edward stood uncertain whether to advance
or retire, and Waverley perceived that his cheeks were stained
with tears.

As if ashamed at being found giving way to such emotion,
Colonel Talbot rose with apparent displeasure, and said, with
some sternness, " I think, Mr. Waverley, my own apartment,
and the hour, might have secured even a prisoner against"

" Do not say intrusion^ Colonel Talbot ; I heard you breathe
hard, and feared you were ill; that alone could have induced
me to break in upon you."

"I am well," said the Colonel, "perfectly well."

" But you are distressed," said Edward : " is there any thing
can be done?"

" Nothing, Mr. Waverley : I was only thinking of home, and
of some unpleasant occurrences there."

" Good God, my uncle !" exclaimed Waverley.

"No, — it is a grief entirely my own. I am ashamed you
should have seen it disarm me so much : but it must have its
course at times, that it may be at others more decently sup-
ported. I would have kept it secret from you ; for I think it
will grieve you, and yet you can administer no consolation.
But you have surprised me — I see you are surprised yourself, —
and I hate mystery. Read that letter."

The letter was from Colonel Talbot's sister, and in these words :
" I received yours, my dearest brother, hj Hodges. Sir E.
W. and Mr. R, are still at large, but are not permitted to leave
London. I wish to Heaven I could give you as good an account
of matters in the square. But the news of the unhappy affair
at Preston came upon us, with the dreadful addition that you

WAVERLEY. 345

were among the fallen. You know Lady Emily's state of health,
when your friendship for Sir E. induced you to leave her. She
was much harassed with the sad accoimts from Scotland of the
rebellion having broken out ; but kept up her spirits, as, she
said, it became your wife, and for the sake of the future heir,
so long hoped for in vain. Alas, my dear brother, these hopes
are now ended ! Notwithstanding all my watchful care, this
unhappy rumour reached her without preparation. She was
taken ill immediately ; and the poor infant scarce survived its
birth. Would to God this were all ! But although the contra-
diction of the horrible report by your own letter has greatly

revived her spirits, yet Dr. apprehends, I grieve to say,

serious, and even dangerous, consequences to her health, espe-
cially from the uncertainty in which she must necessarily
remain for some time, aggravated by the ideas she has formed
of the ferocity of those with whom you are a prisoner.

" Do therefore, my dear brother, as soon as this reaches you,
endeavour to gain your release, by parole, by ransom, or any
way that is practicable. I do not exaggerate Lady Emily's
state of health; but I must not — dare not — suppress the
truth. — Ever, my dear Philip, your most affectionate sister,

" Lucy Talbot."

Edward stood motionless when he had perused this letter;
for the conclusion was inevitable, that by the Colonel's journey
in quest of him, he had incurred this heavy calamity It was
severe enough, even in its irremediable part; for Colonel
Talbot and Lady Emily, long without a family, had fondly
exulted in the hopes which were now blasted. But this dis-
appointment was nothing to the extent of the threatened evil ;
and Edward, with horror, regarded himself as the original cause
of both.

Ere he could collect himself suflficiently to speak. Colonel
Talbot had recovered his usual composure of manner, though
his troubled eye denoted his mental agony.

" She is a woman, my young friend, who may justify even a
soldier's tears." He reached him the miniature, exhibiting
features which fully justified the eulogium; "and yet, God
knows, what you see of her there is the least of the charms she
possesses — possessed, I should perhaps say — ^but God's will be
done I"

diifi) WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" You must fly — you must fly instantly to her relief. It is
not — it shall not be too late."

" Fly ! — how is it possible 1 I am a prisoner — ^upon parole."

" I am your keeper — I restore your parole — I am to answer
for you."

" You cannot do so consistently with your duty ; nor can I
accept a discharge from you with due regard to my own honour
— ^you would be made responsible."

" I will answer it with my head, if necessary," said Waverley,
impetuously. " I have been the unhappy cause of the loss of
your child — make me not the murderer of your wife."

" No, my dear Edward," said Talbot, taking him kindly by
the hand, " you are in no respect to blame ; and if I concealed
this domestic distress for two days, it was lest your sensibility
should view it in that light. You could not think of me,
hardly knew of my existence, when I left England in quest of
you. It is a responsibility. Heaven knows, sufficiently heavy
for mortality, that we must answer for the foreseen and direct
result of our actions, — for their indirect and consequential
operation, the great and good Being, who alone can foresee the
dependence of himian events on each other, hath not pro-
nounced his frail creatures liable."

" But that you should have left Lady Emily," said Waverley,
with much emotion, "in the situation of all others the most
interesting to a husband, to seek a"

" I only did my duty," answered Colonel Talbot, calmly,
" and I do not, ought not to regret it. If the path of grati-
tude and honoiu- were always smooth and easy, there would be
little merit in following it ; but it moves often in contradiction
to our interest and passions, and sometimes to our better affec-
tions. These are the trials of life, and this, though not the
least bitter," (the tears came unbidden to his eyes) " is not the
first which it has been my fate to encounter. — But we will talk
of this to-morrow," he said, wringing Waverley's hands.
" Good-night ; strive to forget it for a few hours. It will
dawn, I think, by six, and it is now past two. Good-night."

Edward retired, without trusting his voice with a reply.

WAVERLEY. 347

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIXTH.

EXERTION.

When Colonel Talbot entered the breakfast-parloiir next morn-
ing, he learned from Waverley's servant that our hero had been
abroad at an early horn-, and was not yet returned. The morn-
ing was well advanced before he again appeared. He arrived
out of breath, but with an air of joy that astonished Colonel
Talbot.

" There," said he, throwing a paper on the table, " there ia
my morning's work. — Alick, pack up the Colonel's clothes.
Make haste, make haste."

The Colonel examined the paper with astonishment. It was
a pass from the Chevalier to Colonel Talbot, to repair to Leith,
or any other port in possession of his Royal Highness's troops,
and there to embark for England or elsewhere, at his free
pleasure ; he only giving his parole of honour not to bear arms
against the house of Stuart for the space of a twelvemonth.

" In the name of God," said the Colonel, his eyes sparkling
with eagerness, " how did you obtain this 1 "

" I was at the Chevalier's levee as soon as he usually rises.
He was gone to the camp at Duddingston. I pursued him
thither ; asked and obtained an audience — but I will tell you
not a word more, unless I see you begin to pack."

" Before I know whether I can avail myself of this passport,
or how it was obtained 1 "

" 0, you can take out the things again, you know. — Now, I
see you busy, I will go on. When I first mentioned your
name, his eyes sparkled almost as bright 'as yours did two
minutes since. ' Had you,' he earnestly asked, * shown any
sentiments favourable to his cause?' 'Not in the least, nor
was there any hope you would do so.' His countenance fell. I
requested your freedom. ' Impossible,' he said ; — ' your import-
ance, as a friend and confi.dant of such and such personages,
made my request altogether extravagant.' I told him my own
story and yours; and asked him to judge what my feelings
must be by his own. He has a heart, and a kind one. Colonel
Talbot, you may say what .you please. He took a sheet of

348 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

paper, aud wrote the pass with his own hand. ' I will not trust
myself with my council,' he said ; ' they will argue me out of
what is right. I will not endure that a friend, valued as 1
value you, should be loaded with the painful reflections which
must afflict you in case of further misfortune in Colonel Talbot's
family ; nor will I keep a brave enemy a prisoner under such
circumstances. Besides,' said he, * I think I can justify myself
to my prudent advisers, by pleading the good effect such lenity
will produce on the minds of the great English families with
whom Colonel Talbot is connected.' "

" There the politician peeped out," said the Colonel.

" Well, at least he concluded like a king's son. — ' Take the
passport ; I have added a condition for form's sake ; but if the
Colonel objects to it, let him depart without giving any parole
whatever. I come here to war with men, but not to distress or
endanger women.' "

" Well, I never thought to have been so much indebted to
the Pretend "

" To the Prince," said Waverley, smiling.

" To the Chevalier," said the Colonel ; " it is a good travel-
ling name, and which we may both freely use. Did he say
anything more 1 "

" Only asked if there was anything else he could oblige me
in ; and when I replied in the negative, he shook me by the
hand, and wished all his followers were as considerate, since
some friends of mine not only asked all he had to bestow, but
many things which were entirely out of his power, or that of
the greatest sovereign upon earth. Indeed, he said, no prince
seemed, in the eyes of his followers, so like the Deity as himself,
if you were to judge from the extravagant requests which they
daily preferred to him."

" Poor young gentleman ! " said the Colonel ; " I suppose he
begins to feel the diflSculties of his situation. Well, dear
Waverley, this is more than kind, and shall not be forgotten
while Philip Talbot can remember anything. My life — pshaw
• — let Emily thank you for that — this is a favour worth fifty
lives. I cannot hesitate on giving my parole in the circum-
stances : there it is — (he wrote it out in form) — and now, how
am I to get off?"

" All that is settled : your baggage is packed, my horses wait,
and a boat has been engaged, by the Prince's permission, to put

WAVERLEY. 349

you ou board the Fox frigate. I sent a messenger down to
Leith on purpose."

"That will do excellently well. Captain Beaver is my
particular friend : he will put me ashore at Berwick or Shields,
from whence I can ride post to London ; — and you must entrust
me with the packet of papers which you recovered by means ol
your Miss Bean Lean. I may have an opportunity of using
them to your advantage. — But I see your Highland friend,

Glen what do you call his barbarous name 1 and his orderly

with him — I must not call him his orderly cut-throat any more,
E suppose. See how he walks as if the world were his own,
with the bonnet on one side of his head, and his plaid puflFed
out across his breast ! I should like now to meet that youth
where my hands were not tied : I would tame his pride, or he
should tame mine."

" For shame. Colonel Talbot ! you swell at sight of tartan,
as the bull is said to do at scarlet. You and Mac-Ivor have
some points not much unlike, so far as national prejudice is
concerned."

The latter part of this discourse took place in the street.
They passed the Chief, the Colonel and be sternly and puncti-
liously greeting each other, like two duellists before they take
their ground. It was evident the dislike was mutual. "J
never see that surly fellow that dogs his heels," said the Colonel,
after he had mounted his horse, " but he reminds me of lines I
have somewhere heard — upon the stage, I think :

Close behind him

Stalks sullen Bertram, like a sorcerer's fiend,
Pressing to be employed. "

" I assure you. Colonel," said Waverley, " that you judge too
harshly of the Highlanders."

" Not a whit, not a whit ; I cannot spare them a jot — I
cannot bate them an ace. Let them stsef in their own barren
mountains, and puff and swell, and hang their bonnets on the
horns of the moon, if they have a mind : but what business
have they to come where people wear breeches, and speak an
intelligible language 1 I mean intelligible in comparison with
their gibberish, for even the Lowlanders talk a kind of English
little better than the negroes in Jamaica. I could pity the
Pr , I mean the Chevalier himself, for having so many

350 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

desperadoes about him. And they leam their trade so early.
There is a kind of subaltern imp, for example, a sort of sucking
devil, whom your friend Glenna — Glenamuck there, has some-
times in his train. To look at him he is about fifteen years •
but he is a century old in mischief and villany. He was play-
ing at quoits the other day in the court; a gentleman — a
decent-looking person enough — came past, and as a quoit hit
his shin, he lifted his cane : but my young bravo whips out his
pistol, like Beau Clincher in the trip to the Jubilee, and had
not a scream of Gardez Veau from an upper window set all
parties a scampering for fear of the inevitable consequences, the
poor gentleman would have lost his life by the hands of that
little cockatrice."

" A fine character you'll give of Scotland upon your return,
Colonel Talbot."

" 0, Justice Shallow," said the Colonel, " will save me the
trouble — 'Barren, barren — beggars all, beggars all. Marry,
good air,' — and that only when you are fairly out of Edinburgh,
and not yet come to Leith, as is our case at present."

In a short time they arrived at the sea-port :

The "boat rocked at the pier of Leitli,

Full loud the wind blew down the ferry ;
The ship rode at the Berwick Law

" Farewell, Colonel ; may you find all as you would wish it !
Perhaps we may meet sooner than you expect : they talk of an
immediate route to England."

" Tell me nothing of that," said Talbot ; " I wish to carry no
news of your motions."

" Simply then, adieu. Say, with a thousand kind greetings,
all that is dutiful and afiectionate to Sir Everard and Aunt
Rachel. Think of me as kindly as you can — speak of me as
indulgently as your conscience will permit, and once more
adieu."

" And adieu, my dear Waverley ! — many, many thanks for
your kindness. Unplaid yourself on the first opportunity. I
shall ever think on you with gratitude, and the worst of my
censure shall be. Que diable alloit4l faire dans cette gaUre ?"

And thus they parted, Colonel Talbot going on board of the
boat, and Waverley returning to Edinburgh.

WAVERLEY 851

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVENTH

THE MARCH.

It is not our purpose to intrude upon the province of history.
We shall therefore only remind our readers, that about the
beginning of November the Young Chevalier, at the head of
about six thousand men at the utmost, resolved to peril his
cause on an attempt to penetrate into the centre of England,
although aware of the mighty preparations which were made
for his reception. They set forward on this crusade in weather
which would have rendered any other troops incapable of
marching, but which in reality gave these active mountaineers
advantages over a less hardy enemy. In defiance of a superior
army lying upon the Borders, under Field Marshal Wade, they
besieged and took Carlisle, and soon afterwards prosecuted their
daring march to the southward,

As Colonel Mac-Ivor's regiment marched in the van of the
clans, he and Waverley, who now equalled any Highlander in
the endurance of fatigue, and was become somewhat acquainted
with their language, were perpetually at its head. They marked
the progress of the army, however, with very different eyes.
Fergus, all air and fire, and confident against the world in
arms, measured nothiug but that every step was a yard nearer
London. He neither asked, expected, nor desired any aid,
except that of the clans, to place the Stuarts once more on
the throne ; and when by chance a few adherents joined the
standard, he always considered them in the light of new
claimants upon the favours of the future monarch, who, he
concluded, must therefore subtract for their gratification so
much of the bounty which ought to be shared among his
Highland followers.

Edward's views were very different. He could not but
observe, that in those towns in which they proclaimed James
the Third, " no man cried, God bless him." The mob stared
and listened, heartless, stupified, and dull, but gave few signs
even of that boisterous spirit which induces them to shout upon
all occasions, for the mere exercise of their most sweet voices.
The Jacobites had been taught to believe that the north-western
counties abounded with wealthy squires and hardy yeomen,

352 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

devoted to the cause of the White Rose. But of the wealthier
Tories they saw little. Some fled from their houses, some
feigned themselves sick, some surrendered themselves to the
Government as suspected persons. Of such as remained, the
ignorant gazed with astonishment, mixed with horror and
aversion, at the wild appearance, unknown language, and
singular garb of the Scottish clans. And to the more prudent,
their scanty numbers, apparent deficiency in discipline, and
poverty of equipment, seemed certain tokens of the calamitous
termination of their rash undertaking. Thus the few who
joined them were such as bigotry of political principle blinded
to consequences, or whose broken fortunes induced them to
hazard all on a risk so desperate.

The Baron of Bradwardine being asked what he thought of
these recruits, took a long pinch of snuff, and answered drily,
"that he could not but have an excellent opinion of them,
since they resembled precisely the followers who attached
themselves to the good King David at the cave of Adullam ;
videlicet^ every one that was in distress, and every one that was
in debt, and every one that was discontented, which the Vulgate
renders bitter of soul ; and doubtless," he said, " they will
prove mighty men of their hands, and there is much need that
they should, for I have seen many a sour look cast upon us."

But none of these considerations moved Fergus. He admired
the luxuriant beauty of the country, and the situation of many
of the seats which they passed. "Is Waverley-Honour like
that house, Edward?"

" It is one half larger."

" Is your uncle's park as fine a one as that ?"

" It is three times as extensive, and rather resembles a forest
than a mere park."

" Flora will be a happy woman."

" I hope Miss Mac-Ivor will have much reason for happiness,
unconnected with Waverley-Honour."

" I hope so too ; but, to be mistress of such a place, will be a
pretty addition to the sum total."

"An addition, the want of which, I trust, will be amply
supplied by some other means,"

"How," said Fergus, stopping short, and turning upon
Waverley — " How am I to understand that, Mr. Waverley 1 —
Had I the pleasure to hear you aright ?"

n

WAVERLEY. 353

"Perfectly right, Fergus."

"And am I to understand that you no longer desire my
alliance, and my sister's hand?"

"Your sister has refused mine," said Waverley, "both
directly, and by all the usual means by which ladies repress
undesired attentions."

" I have no idea," answered the Chieftain, " of a lady dis-
missing or a gentleman withdrawing his suit, after it has been
approved of by her legal guardian, without giving him an
opportunity of talking the matter over with the lady. You did
not, I suppose, expect my sister to drop into yom* mouth like a
ripe plum, the first moment you chose to open it?"

" As to the lady's title to dismiss her lover. Colonel," replied
Edward, " it is a point which you must argue with her, as I am
ignorant of the customs of the Highlands in that particular.
But as to my title to acquiesce in a rejection from her without
an appeal to your interest, I will tell you plainly, without
meaning to undervalue Miss Mac-Ivor's admitted beauty and
accomplishments, that I would not take the hand of an angel,
with an empire for her dowry, if her consent were extorted by
the importunity of friends and guardians, and did not flow from
her own free inclination."

" An angel, with the dowry of an empire," repeated Fergus,
in a tone of bitter irony, " is not very likely to be pressed upon

a shire squire. — But sir," changing his tone, "if Flora

Mac-Ivor have not the dowry of an empire, she is my sister ;
and that is sufl&cient at least to secure her against being treated
with anything approaching to levity."

" She is Flora Mac-Ivor, sir," said Waverley, with firmness,
"which to me, were I capable of treating any woman with
levity, would be a more effectual protection."

The brow of the Chieftain was now fully clouded, but Edward
felt too indignant at the unreasonable tone which he had
adopted, to avert the storm by the least concession. They
both stood stni while this short dialogue passed, and Fergus
seemed half disposed to say something more violent, but, by a
strong effort, suppressed his passion, and turning his face for-
ward, walked sullenly on. As they had always hitherto walked
together, and almost constantly side by side, Waverley pursued
his course silently in the same direction, determined to let the
Chief take his own time in recovering the good-humour which

VOL. I. 2 A

354 VVAVERLEY NOVELS.

he had so unreasonably discarded, and firm in his resolution not
to bate him an inch of dignity.

After they had marched on in this sullen manner about a
mile, Fergus resumed the discourse in a different tone. "I
believe I was warm, my dear Edward, but you provoke me with
your want of knowledge of the world. You have taken pet at
some of Flora's prudery, or high-flying notions of loyalty, and
now, like a child, you quarrel with the plaything you have been
crying for, and beat me, your faithful keeper, because my arm
cannot reach to Edinburgh to hand it to you. I am sure if I
was passionate, the mortification of losing the alliance of such
a friend, after your arrangement had been the talk of both
Highlands and Lowlands, and that without so much as know-
ing why or wherefore, might well provoke calmer blood than
mine. I shall write to Edinburgh, and put all to rights ; that
is, if you desire I should do so, — as indeed I cannot suppose
that your good opinion of Flora, it being such as you have often
expressed to me, can be at once laid aside."

" Colonel Mac-Ivor," said Edward, who had no mind to be
hurried fai'ther or faster than he chose, in a matter which he
had already considered as broken off, '*I am fully sensible of
the value of your good ofl&ces ; and certainly, by your zeal on
my behalf in such an affair, you do me no small honour. But
as Miss Mac-Ivor has made her election freely and voluntarily,
and as all my attentions in Edinburgh were received with more
than coldness, I cannot, in justice either to her or myself, con-
sent that she should again be harassed upon this topic. I would
have mentioned this to you some time since ; — ^but you saw the
footing upon which we stood together, and must have under-
stood it. Had I thought otherwise, I would have earlier spoken ;
but I had a natural reluctance to enter upon a subject so painful
to us both."

" 0, very well, Mr. Waverley," said Fergus, haughtily, " the
thing is at an end. I have no occasion to press my sister upon
any man."

" Nor have I any occasion to court repeated rejection from
the same young lady," answered Edward in the same tone.

"I shall make due inquiry, however," said the Chieftain,
without noticing the interruption, " and leani what my sister
thinks of all this : we will th^ see whether it is to end here."

" Respecting such inquiries, you will of course be guided by

WAVERLEY. 366

your own judgment," said Waverley. "It is, I am aware,
impossible Miss Mac-Ivor can change her mind ; and were such
an unsupposable case to happen, it is certain I will not change
mine. I only mention this to prevent any possibility of future
misconstruction."

Gladly at this moment would Mac-Ivor have put their quarrel
to a personal arbitrament; — his eye flashed fire, and he measured
Edward, as if to choose where he might best plant a mortal
wound. But although we do not now quarrel according to the
modes and figures of Caranza or Vincent Saviola, no one knew
better than Fergus that there must be some decent pretext for
a mortal duel. For instance, you may challenge a man for
treading on your corn in a crowd, or for pushing you up to the
wall, or for taking your seat in the theatre ; but the modern
code of honour will not permit you to found a quarrel upon
your right of compelling a man to continue addresses to a
female relative, which the fair lady has already refused. So
that Fergus was compelled to stomach this supposed affront,
until the whirligig of time, whose motion he promised himself
he would watch most sedulously, should bring about an oppor-
tunity of revenge.

Waverley's servant always led a saddle-horse for him in the
rear of the battalion to which he was attached, though his
master seldom rode. But now, incensed at the domineering
and unreasonable conduct of his late friend, he fell behind the
column, and mounted his horse, resolving to seek the Baron of
Bradwardine, and request permission to volunteer in his troop,
instead of the Mac-Ivor regiment.

" A happy time of it I should have had," thought he, after
he was mounted, " to have been so closely allied to this superb
specimen of pride and self-opinion and passion. A colonel !
why, he should have been a generalissimo. A petty chief of
three or four hundred men ! — his pride might suffice for the
Cham of Tartary — the Grand Seignior — the Great Mogul ! I
am well free of him. Were Flora an angel, she would bring
with her a second Lucifer of ambition and wrath for a brother-
in-law."

The Baron, whose learning (like Sancho's jests while in the
Sierra Morena) seemed to grow mouldy for want of exercise,
joyfully embraced the opportunity of Waverley's offering his
service in his regiment, to bring it into some exertion. The

356 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

good-natui"ed old gentleman, however, laboured to effect a
reconciliation between the two quondam friends. Fergus turned
a cold ear to his remonstrances, though he gave them a respectful
hearing ; and as for Waverley, he saw no reason why he should
be the first in courting a renewal of the intimacy which the
Chieftain had so unreasonably disturbed. The Baron then
mentioned the matter to the Prince, who, anxious to prevent
quarrels in his little army, declared he would himself remon-
strate with Colonel Mac-Ivor on the imreasonableness of his
conduct. But, in the hurry of their march, it was a day or two
before he had an opportunity to exert his influence in the
manner proposed.

In the meanwhile, "Waverley turned the instructions he had
received while in Gardiner's dragoons to some account, and
assisted the Baron in his command as a sort of adjutant.
" Parmi les aveagles un horyne est roi" says the French proverb ;
and the cavalry, which consisted chiefly of Lowland gentlemen,
their tenants and servants, formed a high opinion of Waverley's
skiU, and a great attachment to his person. This was indeed
partly owing to the satisfaction which they felt at the dis-
tinguished English volunteer's leaving the Highlanders to rank
among them ; for there was a latent grudge between the horse
and foot, not only owing to the difference of the services, but
because most of the gentlemen, living near the Highlands, had
at one time or other had quarrels with the tribes in their
vicinity, and all of them looked with a jealous eye on the
Highlanders' avowed pretensions to superior valour, and utility
in the Prince's service.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHTH.

THE CONFUSION OF KING AGRAMANT's CAMP.

It was Waverley's custom sometimes to ride a little apart from
the main body, to look at any object of curiosity which occurred
on the march. They were now in Lancashire, when, attracted
by a castellated old hall, he left the squadron for half-an-hour,
to take a survey and slight sketch of it. As he returned down
the avenue, he was met by Ensign Maccombich. This man had

WAVKKLEY. 367

coutracted a sort of regard for Edward since the day of his first
seeing him at TuUy-Veolan, and introducing him to the High-
lands. He seemed to loiter, as if on purpose to meet with our
hero. Yet, as he passed him, he only approached his stirrup,
and pronounced the single word "Beware!" and then walked
swiftly on, shunning all further communication.

Edward, somewhat surprised at this hint, followed with his
eyes the course of Evan, who speedily disappeared among the
trees. His servant, Alick Polwarth, who was in attendance,
also looked after the Highlander, and then riding up close to his
master, said,

" The ne'er be in me, sir, if I think you're safe among thae
Highland rinthereouts."

" What do you mean, Alick ?" said Waverley.

" The Mac-Ivors, sir, hae gotten it into their heads, that ye
hae aflFronted their young leddy, Miss Flora ; and I hae heard
mae than ane say, they wadna tak muckle to make a black-cock
o' ye ; and ye ken weel eneugh there's mony o' them wadna
mind a bawbee the weising a ball through the Prince himsell,
an the Chief gae them the wink — or w^hether he did or no, —
if they thought it a thing that would please him when it was
dune."

Waverley, though confident that Fergus Mac-Ivor was incap-
able of such treachery, was by no means equally sure of the
forbearance of his followers. He knew, that where the honour
of the Chief or his family was supposed to be touched, the
happiest man would be he that could first avenge the stigma ;
and he had often heard them quote a proverb, " That the best
revenge was the most speedy and most safe." Coupling this
with the hint of Evan, he judged it most prudent to set spurs
to his horse, and ride briskly back to the squadron. Ere he
reached the end of the long avenue, however, a ball whistled
past him, and the report of a pistol was heard.

" It was that deevil's buckie, Callum Beg," said Alick ; " I
saw him whisk away through amang the reises."

Edward, justly incensed at this act of treachery, galloped out
of the avenue, and observed the battalion of Mac-Ivor at some
distance moving along the common, in which it terminated.
He also saw an individual running very fast to join the party ;
this he concluded was the mtended assassin, who, by leaping an
enclosure, might easily make a much shorter path to the main

358 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

body than lie could find on horseback. Unable to contain
hunself, lie commanded Alick to go to the Baron of Bradwar-
dine, who was at the head of his regiment about half a mile in
front, and acquaint him with what had happened. He himself
immediately rode up to Fergus's regiment. The Chief himself
was in the act of joining them. He was on horseback, having
returned from waiting on the Prince. On perceiving Edward
approaching, he put his horse in motion towards him.

" Colonel Mac-Ivor," said Waverley, without any farther
salutation, " I have to inform you that one of your people has
this instant fired at me from a lurking-place."

" As that," answered Mac-Ivor, " excepting the circumstance
of a lurking-place, is a pleasure which I presently propose to
myself, I should be glad to know which of my clansmen dared
to anticipate me."

" I shall certainly be at your command whenever you please ;
— the gentleman who took your office upon himself is your page
there, Callum Beg."

" Stand forth from the ranks, CaUum ! Did you fire at Mr.
Waverley?"

" No," answered the unblushing Callum.

" You did," said Alick Polwarth, who was already returned,
having met a trooper by whom he despatched an account of
what was going forward to the Baron of Bradwardine, while he
himself returned to his master at full gallop, neither sparing the
rowels of his spurs, nor the sides of his horse. " You did ; I
saw you as plainly as I ever saw the auld kirk at Coudingham."

" You lie," replied Callum, with his usual impenetrable obsti-
nacy. The combat between the knights would certainly, as in
the days of chivalry, have been preceded by an encounter be-
tween the squires (for Alick was a stout-hearted Merseman, and
feared the bow of Cupid far more than a Highlander's dirk or
claymore), but Fergus, with his usual tone of decision, demanded
Callum's pistol. The cock was down, the pan and muzzle were
black with the smoke ; it had been that instant fired.

" Take that," said Fergus, striking the boy upon the head
with the heavy pistol-butt with his whole force, " take that for
acting without orders, and lying to disguise it." Callum re-
ceived the blow without appearing to flinch from it, and fell
without sign of life. "Stand still, upon your lives!" said
Fergus to the rest of the clan ; " I blow out tho brains of the

WAVERLEY. 359

first man who interferes between Mr. Waverley and me." They
stood motionless ; Evan Dhu alone showed symptoms of vexa-
tion and anxiety. Galium lay on the ground bleeding copiously,
but no one ventured to give him any assistance. It seemed aa
if he had gotten his death-blow.

" And now for you, Mr. Waverley ; please to turn your horse
twenty yards with me upon the common." Waverley complied ;
and Fergus, confronting him when they were a little way from
the line of march, said, with great affected coolness, " I could
not but wonder, sir, at the fickleness of taste which you were
pleased to express the other day. But it was not an angel, as
you justly observed, who had charms for you, unless she brought
an empire for her fortune. I have now an excellent commen-
tary upon that obscure text."

*' I am at a loss even to guess at your meaning. Colonel
Mac-Ivor, unless it seems plain that you intend to fasten a
quarrel upon me."

" Your affected ignorance shall not serve you, sir. The
Prince, — the Prince himself, has acquainted me with your
manoeuvres. I little thought that your engagements with Miss
Bradwardine were the reason of your breaking off your intended
match with my sister. I suppose the information that the
Baron had altered the destination of his estate, was quite a
sufficient reason for slighting your friend's sister, and carrying
off your friend's mistress."

" Did the Prince tell you I was engaged to Miss Bradwar-
dine 1" said Waverley. "Impossible."

" He did, sir," answered Mac-Ivor ; " so, either draw and
defend yourself, or resign your pretensions to the lady."

" This is absolute madness," exclaimed Waverley, " or some
strange mistake !"

"0! no evasion! draw your sword!" said the infuriated
Chieftain, — his own already unsheathed.

" Must I fight in a madman's quarrel f

" Then give up now, and for ever, all pretensions to Miss
Bradwardine's hand."

" What title have you," cried Waverley, utterly losing com-
mand of himself, — " What title have you, or any man living,
to dictate such terms to me?" And he also drew his sword.

At this moment the Baron of Bradwardine, followed by several
of his troop, came up on the spur, some from curiosity, others

360 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

I

to take part in the quarrel, which they indistinctly understood
had broken out between the Mac-Ivors and their corps. The
clan, seeing them approach, put themselves in motion to support
their Chieftain, and a scene of confusion commenced, which
seemed likely to terminate in bloodshed. A hundred tongues
were in motion at once. The Baron lectured, the Chieftain
stormed, the Highlanders screamed in Gaelic, the horsemen
cursed and swore in Lowland Scotch. At length matters came
to such a pass, that the Baron threatened to charge the Mac-
Ivors unless they resumed their ranks, and many of them, in
return, presented their fire-arms at him and the other troopers.
The confusion was privately fostered by old Ballenkeiroch, who
made no doubt that his own day of vengeance was arrived,
when, behold ! a cry arose of " Room ! make way ! — flace d
Monseigneur ! place d Monseigneur !" This announced the
approach of the Prince, who came up with a party of Fitz-
James's foreign dragoons that acted as his body guard. His
arrival produced some degree of order. The Highlanders reas-
sumed their ranks, the cavalry fell in and formed squadron, and
the Baron and Chieftain were silent.

The Prince called them and Waverley before him. Having
heard the original cause of the quarrel through the viUany of
Callum Beg, he ordered him into custody of the provost-marshal
for immediate execution, in the event of his surviving the
chastisement inflicted by his Chieftain. Fergus, however, in
a tone betwixt claiming a right and asking a favour, requested
he might be left to his disposal, and promised his punishment
should be exemplary. To deny this, might have seemed to
encroach on the patriarchal authority of the Chieftains, of which
they were very jealous, and they were not persons to be disobliged.
Callum was therefore left to the justice of his o^vn tribe.

The Prince next demanded to know the new cause of quarrel
between Colonel Mac-Ivor and Waverley. There was a pause.
Both gentlemen found the presence of the Baron of Bradwardine
(for by this time all three had approached the Chevalier by his
command) an insurmountable barrier against entering upon a
subject where the name of his daughter must unavoidably be
mentioned. They turned their eyes on the ground, with looks
in which shame and embarrassment were mingled with dis-
pleasure. The prince, who had been educated amongst the
discontented and mutinous spirits of the court of St. Germaina,

WAVERLEY. 361

where feuds of every kind were the daily subject of solicitude to
the dethroned sovereign, had served his apprenticeship, as old
Frederick of Prussia would have said, to the trade of royalty.
To promote or restore concord among his followers was indis-
pensable. Accordingly he took his measures.

" Monsieur de Beaujeu !"

" Monseigneur !" said a very handsome French cavahy officer,
who was in attendance.

"Ayez la bonte d'alligner ces montagnards 1^, ainsi que la
cavalerie, s'il vous plait, et de les remettre k la marche. Voua
parlez si bien I'Anglois, cela ne vous donneroit pas beaucoup de
peine."

''• All ! pas du tout, Monseigneur," replied Mons. le Comte
de Beaujeu, his head bending down to the neck of his little
prancing highly-managed charger. Accordingly he piaffed away,
in high spirits and confidence, to the head of Fergus's regiment,
although understanding not a word of Gaelic, and very little
English.

" Messieurs les sauvages Ecossois — dat is — ^gentilmans savages,
have the goodness d'arranger vous."

The clan, comprehending the order more from the gesture
than the words, and seeing the Prince himself present, hastened
to dress their ranks.

" Ah ! ver well ! dat is fort bien !" said the Count de Beaujeu.
" Gentilmans sauvages — mais tres bien — Eh bien ! — Qu'est-ce
que vous appelez visage. Monsieur?" (to a lounging trooper
who stood by him). " Ah, oui ! face — Je vous remercie. Mon-
sieur.— Gentilshommes, have de goodness to make de face to de
right par file, dat is, by files. — Marsh ! — Mais tres bien — encore,
Messieurs ; il faut vous mettre k la marche .... Marchez
done, au nom de Dieu, parceque j'ai oubli^ le mot Anglois —
mais vous etes des braves gens, et me comprenez tr^s bien."

The Count next hastened to put the cavalry in motion.
'' Gentilmans cavalry, you must fall in. — Ah ! par ma foi, I did
not say fall off? I am a fear de little gross fat gentilman is
moche hurt. Ah, mon Dieu ! c'est le Commissaire qui nous
a apport^ les premises nouvelles de ce maudit fracas. Je suis
trop fach^. Monsieur !"

But poor Macwheeble, who, with a sword stuck across him,
and a white cockade as large as a pancake, now figured in the
character of a commissary, being overturned in the bustle

862 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

occasioned by the troopers hastening to get themselves in ordei
in the Prince's presence, before he could rally his galloway,
slunk to the rear amid the unrestrained laughter of the spec-
tators.

" Eh bien, Messieurs, wheel to de right — Ah ! dat is it ! —
Eh, Monsieur de Bradwardine, ayez la bonte de vous mettre
k la tete de votre regiment, cax, par Dieu, je n'en puis plus !"

The Baron of Bradwardine was obliged to go to the assistance
of Monsieur de Beaujeu, after he had fairly expended his few
English military phrases. One purpose of the Chevalier was
thus answered. The other he proposed was, that in the eager-
ness to hear and comprehend commands issued through such an
indistinct medium in his own presence, the thoughts of the
soldiers in both corps might get a current different from the
angry channel in which they were flowing at the time.

Charles Edward was no sooner left with the Chieftain and
Waverley, the rest of his attendants being at some distance,
than he said, " If I owed less to your disinterested friendship,
I could be most seriously angry with both of you for this very
extraordinary and causeless broil, at a moment when my father's
service so decidedly demands the most perfect unanimity. But
the worst of my situation is, that my very best friends hold
they have liberty to ruin themselves, as well as the cause they
are engaged in, upon the slightest caprice."

Both the young men protested their resolution to submit
every difference to his arbitration. " Indeed," said Edward,
" I hardly know of what I am accused. I sought Colonel Mac-
Ivor merely to mention to him that I had narrowly escaped
assassination at the hand of his immediate dependent — a
dastardly revenge, which I knew him to be incapable of
authorising. As to the cause for which he is disposed to fasten
a quarrel upon me, I am ignorant of it, unless it be that he
accuses me, most unjustly, of having engaged the affections of
a young lady in prejudice of his pretensions."

" If there is an error," said the Chieftain, " it arises from a
conversation which I held this morning with his Royal Highness
himself."

"With me?" said the Chevalier; "how can Colonel Mac-
Ivor have so far misunderstood me?"

He then led Fergus aside, and, after five minutas' earnest con-
versation, spurred his horse towards Edward. " Is it possible —

WAVERLEY. 368

nay, ride up, Colonel, for I desire no secrets — Is it possible, Mr.
Waverley, that I am mistaken in supposing that you are an
accepted lover of Miss Bradwardine ?— a fact of which I was
by circumstances, though not by communication from you, so
absolutely convinced, that I alleged it to Vich Ian Vohr this
morning as a reason why, without offence to him, you might
not continue to be ambitious of an alliance, which to an un-
engaged person, even though once repulsed, holds out too many
charms to be lightly laid aside."

" Your Koyal Highness," said Waverley, " must have founded
on circumstances altogether xmknowii to me, when you did me
the distinguished honour of supposing me an accepted lover
of Miss Bradwardine. I feel the distinction implied in the
supposition, but I have no title to it. For the rest, my con-
fidence in my own merits is too justly slight to admit of my
hoping for success in any quaiier after positive rejection."

The Chevalier was silent for a moment, looking steadily at
them both, and then said, "Upon my word, Mr. Waverley,
you are a less happy man than I conceived I had very good
reason to believe you. — But now, gentlemen, allow me to be
umpire in this matter, not as Prince Eegent, but as Charles
Stuart, a brother adventurer with you in the same gallant
cause. Lay my pretensions to be obeyed by you entirely out of
view, and consider your own honour, and how far it is well, or
becoming, to give our enemies the advantage, and our friends
the scandal, of showing that, few as we are, we are not imited.
And forgive me if I add, that the names of the ladies who
have been mentioned, crave more respect from us all than to be
made themes of discord."

He took Fergus a little apart, and spoke to him very earnestly
for two or three minutes, and then returning to Waverley, said,
" 1 believe I have satisfied Colonel Mac-Ivor that his resentment
was founded upon a misconception, to which, indeed, I myself
gave rise ; and I trust Mr. Waverley is too generous to harbour
any recollection of what is past, when I assure him that such
is the case. — ^You must state this matter properly to your clan,
Vich Ian Vohr, to prevent n. recurrence of their precipitate
violence." Fergus bowed. " And now, gentlemen, let me have
the pleasure to see you shake hands."

They advanced coldly, and with measured steps, each appa-
rently reluctant to appear most forward in concession. They

364 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

did, however, shake hands, and parted, taking a respectful leave
of the Chevalier.

Charles Edward* then rode to the head of the Mac-Ivors,
threw himself from his horse, begged a drink out of old
Ballenkeiroch's canteen, and marched about half-a-mile along
with them, inquiring into the history and connexions of
Sliochd nan Ivor, adroitly using the few words of Gaelic he
possessed, and affecting a great desire to learn it more
thoroughly. He then mounted his horse once more, and
galloped to ihe Baron's cavalry, which was in front; halted
them, and examined their accoutrements and state of discipline ;
took notice of the principal gentlemen, and even of the cadets ;
inquired after their ladies, and commended their horses ; — ^rode
about an hour with the Baron of Bradwardine, and endured
three long stories about Field-Marshal the Duke of Berwick.

" Ah, Beaujeu, mon cher ami," said he as he returned to his
usual place in the line of march, " que mon metier de prince
errant est ennuyant, par fois. Mais, courage ! c'est le grand
jeu, apr^s tout."

* Note Z. Prince Charies Edward.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINTH.

A SKIRMISH.

The reader need hardly be reminded, that, after a coimcil of
war held at Derby on the 5th of December, the Highlanders
relinquished their desperate attempt to penetrate farther into
England, and, greatly to the dissatisfaction of their young and
daring leader, positively determined to return northward. They
commenced their retreat accordingly, and by the extreme
celerity of their movements, outstripped the motions of the
Duke of Cimiberland, who now pursued them with a very large
body of cavalry.

This retreat was a virtual resignation of their towering hopes.
None had been so sanguine as Fergus Mac-Ivor ; none, conse-
quently, was so cruelly mortified at the change of measures.
He argued, or rather remonstrated, with the utmost vehemence
at the coimcil of war ; and, when his opinion was rejected, shed

WAVERLEY. 3G6

tears of grief and indignation. From that moment his whole
manner was so much altered, that he could scarcely have been
recognised for the same soaring and ardent spirit, for whom the
whole earth seemed too narrow but a week before. The retreat
had continued for several days, when Edward, to his surprise,
early on the 12th of December, received a visit from the Chief-
tain in his quarters, in a hamlet about half-way between Shap
and Penrith.

Having had no intercourse with the Chieftain since their
rupture, Edward waited with some anxiety an explanation of
this unexpected visit ; nor could he help being surprised, and
somewhat shocked, with the change in his appearance. His
eye had lost much of its fire ; his cheek was hollow, his voice
was languid ; even his gait seemed less firm and elastic than it
was wont ; and his dress, to which he used to be particularly
attentive, was now carelessly flung about him. He invited
Edward to walk out with him by the little river in the vicinity ;
and smiled in a melancholy manner when he observed him take
down and buckle on his sword.

As soon as they were in a wild, sequestered path by the side
of the stream, the Chief broke out, — " Our fine adventure is
now totally ruined, Waverley, and I wish to know what you
intend to do : — nay, never stare at me, man. I tell you I
received a packet from my sister yesterday, and, had I got the
information it contains sooner, it would have prevented a
quarrel, which I am always vexed when I think of. In a letter
written after our dispute, I acquainted her with the cause of it ;
and she now replies to me, that she never had, nor could have,
any purpose of giving you encouragement ; so that it seems I
have acted like a madman. — Poor Flora ! she writes in high
spirits ; what a change will the news of this unhappy retreat
make in her state of mind ! "

Waverley, who was really much affected by the deep tone of
melancholy with which Fergus spoke, afiectionately entreated
him to banish from his remembrance any unkindness which had
arisen between them, and they once more shook hands, but now
with sincere cordiality. Fergus again inquired of Waverley
what he intended to do. " Had you not better leave this luck-
less army, and get down before us into Scotland, and embark
for the Continent from some of the eastern ports that are still
in our possession 1 When you are out of the kingdom, your

366 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

friends will easily negotiate yoiir pardon ; and, to tell you the
tmth, I wish you would carry Rose Bradwardine with you as
your wife, and take Flora also under your joint protection." —
Edward looked surprised — " She loves you, and I believe you
love her, though, perhaps, you have not found it out, for you
are not celebrated for knowing your own mind very pointedly."
He said this with a sort of smile.

" How ! " answered Edward, " can you advise me to desert
the expedition in which we are all embarked ? "

" Embarked 1 " said Fergus ; "the vessel is going to pieces,
and it is full time for all who can, to get into the long-boat and
leave her."

"Why, what will other gentlemen do?" answered Waverley,
" and why did the Highland Chiefs consent to this retreat, if it
is so ruinous?"

"0," replied Mac-Ivor, "they think that, as on former
occasions, the heading, hanging, and forfeiting, will chiefly fall
to the lot of the Lowland gentry ; that they will be left secure
in their poverty and their fastnesses, there, according to their
proverb, ' to listen to the wind upon the hill till the waters
abate.' But they will be disappointed ; they have been too
often troublesome to be so repeatedly passed over, and this time
John Bull has been too heartily frightened to recover his good
humour for some time. The Hanoverian ministers always
deserved to be hanged for rascals ; but now, if they get the
power in their hands, — as, sooner or later they must, since
there is neither rising in England nor assistance from France, —
they will deserve the gallows as fools, if they leave a single clan
in the Highlands in a situation to be again troublesome to
Government. Ay, they will make root-and-branch-work, I
warrant them."

" And while you recommend flight to me," said Edward, —
" a counsel which I would rather die than embrace, — what are
your own views ?"

" 0," answered Fergus, with a melancholy air, " my fate is
settled. Dead or captive I must be before to-morrow."

"What do you mean by that, my friend?" said Edward.
" The enemy is still a day's march in our rear, and if he comes
up, we are still strong enough to keep him in check. Remem-
ber Gladsmuir."

I

WAVERLEl. 367

" What I tell you is true notwithstanding, so far as I am
individually concerned."

" Upon what authority can you found so melancholy a pre-
diction?" asked Waverley.

" On one which never failed a person of my house. I have
seen," he said lowering his voice, "I have seen the Bodach Glas."

''BodachGlas?"

" Yes : have you been so long at Glennaquoich, and never
heard of the Grey Spectre? though indeed there is a certain
reluctance among us to mention him."

" No never."

" Ah ! it would have been a tale for poor Flora to have told
you. Or, if that hill were Benmore, and that long blue lake,
which you see just winding towards yon mountainous country,
were Loch Tay, or my own Loch an Ri, the tale would be better
suited with scenery. However, let us sit down on this knoll ;
even Saddleback and Ullswater will suit what I have to say
better than the English hedge-rows, enclosures, and farm-
houses. You must know, then, that when my ancestor, Ian
nan Chaistel, wasted Northumberland, there was associated
with him in the expedition a sort of Southland Chief, oi
captain of a band of Lowlanders, called Halbert Hall. In
their return through the Cheviots, they quarrelled about the
division of the great booty they had acquired, and came from
words to blows. The Lowlanders were cut off to a man, and
their chief fell the last, covered with wounds by the sword of
my ancestors. Since that time, his spirit has crossed the Vich
Ian Vohr of the day when any great disaster was impending,
but especially before approaching death. My father saw him
twice ; once before he was made prisoner at SherifFmuir ; an-
other time, on the morning of the day on which he died."

" How can you, my dear Fergus, tell such nonsense with a
grave face?"

" I do not ask you to believe it ; but I tell you the truth,
ascertained by three hundred years' experience at least, and last
night by my own eyes."

"The particulars, for heaven's sake!" said Waverley, with

" I will, on condition you will not attempt a jest on the sub-
ject.— Since this unhappy retreat commenced, I have scarce
ever been able to sleep for thinking of my clan, and of this poor

368 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

I

Prince, whom they are leading back like a dog in a string,
whether he will or no, and of the downfall of my family. Last
night I felt so feverish that I left my quarters, and walked out,

in hopes the keen frosty air would brace my nerves 1 cannot

tell how much I dislike going on, for I know you will hardly
believe me. However — I crossed a small foot-bridge, and kept
walking backwards and forwards, when I observed with surprise,
by the clear moonlight, a tall figure in a grey plaid, such as
shepherds wear in the south of Scotland, which, move at what
pace I would, kept regularly about four yards before me."

"You saw a Cumberland peasant in his ordinary dress,
probably."

" No : I thought so at first, and was astonished at the man's
audacity in daring to dog me. I called to him but received no
answer. I felt an anxious throbbing at my heart ; and to ascer-
tain what I dreaded, I stood still, and turned myself on the
same spot successively to the four points of the compass — By
Heaven, Edward, turn where I would, the figure was instantly
before my eyes, at precisely the same distance? I was then
convinced it was the Bodach Glas. My hair bristled, and my
knees shook. I manned myself, however, and determined to
return to my quarters. My ghastly visitant glided before me
(for I cannot say he walked), until he reached the foot-bridge :
there he stopped, and turned full round. I must either wade
the river, or pass him as close as I am to you. A desperate
courage, founded on the belief that my death was near, made
me resolve to make my way in despite of him. I made the
sign of the cross, drew my sword, and uttered, ' In the name of
God, Evil Spirit, give place !' * Vich Ian Vohr,' it said, in a
voice that made my very blood curdle, beware of To-morrow !'
It seemed at that moment not half a yard from my~sw6rd's
—pointy but the words were no sooner spoken than it was gone,
and nothing appeared further to obstruct my passage. I got
home, and threw myself on my bed, where I spent a few hours
heavily enough ; and this morning, as no enemy was reported
to be near us, I took my horse, and rode forward to make up
matters with you. I would not willingly fall until I am in
charity with a wronged friend."

Edward had little doubt that this phantom was the opera-
tion of an exhausted frame and depressed spirits, working on
the belief common to all Highlanders in such superstitions.

WAVEttLEY. 369

He did not the less jnty Fergus, for whom, ia his present
distress, he felt all his former regard revive. With the view of
diverting his mind from these gloomy images, he offered with
the Baron's permission, which he knew he could readily obtain,
to remain in his quarters till Fergus's corps should come up,
and then to march with them as usual. The chief seemed
much pleased, yet hesitated to accept the offer.

" We are, you know, in the rear, — the post of danger in a
retreat."

"And therefore the post of honour."

" Well," replied the Chieftain, " let Alick have your horse in
readiness, in case we should be over-matched, and I shall be
delighted to have your company once more."

The rear-guard were late in making their appearance, having
been delayed by various accidents and by the badness of the
roads. At length they entered the hamlet. When Waverley
joined the clan Mac-Ivor, arm in arm with their Chieftain, aU
the resentment they had entertained against him seemed blown
off at once. Evan Dhu received him with a giin of congratula-
tion; and even Callum, who was running about as active aa
ever, pale indeed, and with a great patch on his head, appeared
delighted to see him.

" That gallows-bird's skull," said Fergus, " must be harder
than marble : the lock of the pistol was actually broken."

"How could you strike so young a lad so hard?" said
Waverley, with some interest.

" Why, if I did not strike hard sometimes, the rascals would
forget themselves."

They were now in full march, every caution being taken to
prevent sui-prise. Fergus's people, and a fine clan regiment
from Badenoch, commanded by Cluny Mac-Pherson, had the
rear. They had passed a large open moor, and were entering
into the enclosures which surround a small village called
Clifton. The winter sun had set, and Edward began to rally
Fergus upon the false predictions of the Grey Spirit. " The Ides
of March are not past," said Mac-Ivor, with a smile; when,
suddenly casting his eyes back on the moor, a large body of
cavalry was indistinctly seen to hover upon its brown and dark
surface. To line the enclosures facing the open ground, and
the road by which the enemy must move from it upon the
village, was the work of a short time. While these manoeuvreK
VOL. I. 2 b

370 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

were accomplishing, night smik down, dark and gloomy, though
the moon was at full. Sometimes, however, she gleamed forth
a dubious light upon the scene of action.

The Highlanders did not remain long undisturbed in the
defensive position they had adopted. Favoured by the night,
one large body of dismounted dragoons attempted to force the
enclosures, while another, equally strong, strove to penetrate
by the high road. Both were received by such a heavy fire as
disconcerted their ranks, and eftectually checked their progress.
Unsatisfied with the advantage thus gained, Fergus, to whose
ardent spirit the approach of danger seemed to restore all its
elasticity, drawing his sword, and called out "Claymore!"
encouraged his men, by voice and example, to break through
the hedge which divided them, and rush down upon the enemy.
Mingling with the dismounted dragoons, they forced them, at
the sword point, to fly to the open moor, where a considerable
number were cut to pieces. But the moon which suddenly
shone out, showed to the English the small number of assailants,
disordered by their own success. Two squadrons of horse mov-
ing to the support of their companions, the Highlanders endea-
voured to recover the enclosures. But several of them, amongst
others their brave Chieftain, were cut off" and surrounded before
they could effect their jjurpose. Waverley, looking eagerly for
Fergus, from whom, as well as from the retreating body of his
followers, he had been separated in the darkness and tumult,
saw him, with Evan Dhu and Galium, defending themselves
desperately against a dozen of horsemen, who were heaving at
them with their long broadswords. The moon was again at
that moment totally overclouded, and Edward, in the obscurity,
could neither bring aid to his friends, nor discover which way
lay his own road to rejoin the rear-guard. After once or twice
narrowly escaping being slain or made prisoner by parties of the
cavalry whom he encountered in the darkness, he at length
reached an enclosure, and clambering over it, concluded himself
in safety, and on the way to the Highland forces, whose pipes
he heard at some distance. For Fergus hardly a hope remained,
unless that he might be made prisoner. Revolving his fate
with sorrow and anxiety, the superstition of the Bodach Glas
recurred to Edward's recollection, and he said to himself, with
internal surprise. "What, can the devil speak truth?"*
Note A A. The Skirmish at Clifton.

WAVERLEY. 371

CHAPTER SIXTIETH.

CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS.

Edward was in a most unpleasant and dangerous situation.
He soon lost the sound of the bagpipes ; and, what was yet
more unpleasant, when, after searching long in vain, and
scrambling through many enclosures, he at length approached
the high road, he learned, from the imwelcome noise of kettle-
drums and trumpets, that the English Cavalry now occupied it,
and consequently were between him and the Highlanders.
Precluded, therefore, from advancing in a straight direction, he
resolved to avoid the English military, and endeavour to join
his friends by making a circuit to the left, for which a beaten
path deviating from the main road in that direction, seemed to
afford facilities. The path was muddy, and the night dark and
cold ; but even these inconveniences were hardly felt amidst the
apprehensions which falling into the hands of the King's forces
reasonably excited in his bosom.

After walking about three miles, he at length reached a
hamlet. Conscious that the common people were in general
unfavourable to the cause he had espoused, yet desirous, if
possible, to procure a horse and guide to Penrith, where he hoped
to find the rear, if not the main body, of the Chevalier's army,
he approached the alehouse of the place. There was a great
noise within : he paused to listen. A round English oath or two,
and the burden of a campaign song, convinced him the hamlet
also was occupied by the Duke of Cumberland's soldiers. En-
deavouring to retire from it as softly as possible, and blessing
the obscurity which hitherto he had murmured against, Waverley
groped his way the best he could along a small paling, which
seemed the boundary of some cottage garden. As he reached
the gate of this little enclosure, his outstretched hand was
grasped by that of a female, whose voice at the same time
uttered, "Edward, is't thou, man?"

" Here is some unlucky mistake," thought Edward, struggling,
but gently, to disengage himself.

" Naen o' thy foun, now, man, or the red cwoats will hear
thee ; they hae been houlerying and poulerying every ano that

372 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

i

past alehouse door this noight to make them drive their wag-
gons and sick loike. Come into feyther's, or they'll do ho a
mischief."

" A good hint," thought Waverley, following the girl through
the little garden into a brick-paved kitchen, where she set herself
to kindle a match at an expiring fire, and with the match to
light a candle. She had no sooner looked on Edward, than she
dropped the light, with a shrill scream of " 0 feyther ! feyther !"

The father, tlms invoked, speedily appeared, — a sturdy old
farmer, in a pair of leather breeches and boots pulled on without
stockings, having just started from his bed; — the rest of his
dress was only a Westmoreland statesman's robe-de-chambre, —
that is, his shirt. His figure was displayed to advantage, by a
candle which he bore in his left hand ; in his right he bran-
dished a poker.

"What hast ho here, wench?"

"0 !" cried the poor girl, almost going off in hysterics, "I
thought it was Ned Williams, and it is one of the plaid-men !"

" And what was thee ganging to do wi' Ned Williams at this
time o' noight?" To this, which was, perhaps, one of the
numerous class of questions more easily asked than answered,
the rosy-cheeked damsel made no reply, but continued sobbing
and wringing her hands.

" And thee, lad, dost ho know that the dragoons be a town ?
Dost ho know that, mon 1 — ad, they'll sliver thee loike a turnip,
mon."

" I know my life is in great danger," said Waverley, " but if
you can assist me, I will reward you handsomely. I am no
Scotchman, but an unfortunate English gentleman."

" Be ho Scot or no," said the honest farmer, " I wish thou hadst
kept the other side of the hallan. But since thou ai-t here,
Jacob Jopson will betray no man's bluid ; and the plaids were
gey canny, and did not so much mischief when they were here
yesterday." Accordingly he set seriously about sheltering and
refreshing our hero for the night. Tlie fire was speedily
rekindled, but with precaution against its light being seen
from without. The jolly yeoman cut a rasher of bacon, which
Cicely soon broiled, and her father added a swinging tankard
of his best ale. It was settled, that Edward should remain
there till the troops marched in the morning, then hire or buy a
horse from the farmer, and, with the best directions that could

WAVERLEY. 373

be obtained, endeavour to overtake his friends. A clean, though
coarse bed, received him after the fatigues of this unhappy day.

With the morning arrived the news that the Highlanders
had evacuated Penrith, and marched off towards Carlisle ; that
the Duke of Cumberland was in possession of Penrith, and that
detachments of his army covered the roads in every direction.
To attempt to get through undiscovered, would be an act of
the most frantic temerity. Ned Williams (the right Edward)
was now called to council by Cicely and her father. Ned, who
perhaps did not care that liis handsome namesake should remain
too long in the same house with his sweetheart, for fear of fresh
mistakes, proposed that Waverley, exchanging his uniform and
plaid for the dress of the country, should go with him to his
father's farm near UUswater, and remain in that undisturbed
retirement until the military movements in the country should
have ceased to render his departure hazardous. A price was also
agreed upon, at which the stranger might board with Farmer
Williams, if he thought proper, till he could depart with safety.
It was of moderate amount ; the distress of his situation,
among this honest and simple-hearted race, being considered as
no reason for increasing their demand.

The necessary articles of dress were accordingly procured;
and, by following by-paths, known to the young farmer, they
hoped to escape any unpleasant rencontre. A recompense for
their hospitality was refused peremptorily by old Jopson and
his cherry-cheeked daughter ; a kiss paid the one, and a hearty
shake of the hand the other. Both seemed anxious for their
guest's safety, and took leave of him with kind wishes.

In the course of their route, Edward, with his guide, traversed
those fields which the night before had been the scene of f<ction.
A brief gleam of December's sun shone sadly on the broad
heath, which, towards the spot where the great north-west road
entered the enclosures of Lord Lonsdale's property, exhibited
dead bodies of men and horses, and the usual companions of
war — a number of carrion-crows, hawks, and ravens.

" And this, then, wa^ thy last field," said Waverley to himself,
his eye filling at the recollection of the many splendid points of
Fergus's character, and of their former intimacy, all his passions
and imperfections forgotten. — " Here fell the last Vich Ian Vohr,
on a nameless heath; and in an obscure night-skirmish was
quenched that ardent sphit, who thought it little to cut a -w&y

374 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

for his master to the British throne ! Ambition, policy, bravery,
all far beyond their sphere, here learned the fate of mortals. The
sole support, too, of a sister, whose spirit, as proud and unbend-
ing, was even more exalted than thine own ; here ended all
thy hopes for Flora, and the long and valued line which it was
thy boast to raise yet more highly by thy adventurous valour !"
As these ideas pressed on Waverley's mind, he resolved to go
upon the open heath, and search if, among the slain, he could
discover the body of his friend, with the pious intention of
procuring for him the last rites of sepulture. The timorous
young man who accompanied him remonstrated upon the
danger of the attempt, but Edward was determined. The
followers of the camp had already stripped the dead of all they
could carry away ; but the country people, unused to scenes of
blood, had not yet approached the field of action, though some
stood fearfully gazing at a distance. About sixty or seventy
dragoons lay slain within the first enclosure, upon the high
road, and on the open moor. Of the Highlanders, not above a
/ dozen had fallen, chiefly those who, venturing too far on the

} moor, could not regain the strong ground. He could not find

the body of Fergus among the slain. On a little knoll, separated
from the others, lay the carcasses of three English dragoons,
two hordes, and the page Galium Beg, whose hard skull a
trooper's broadsword had, at length, efiectually cloven. It was
possible, his clan had carried off the body of Fergus ; but it was
also possible he had escaped, especially as Evan Dhu, who would
never leave his chief, was not found among the dead ; or he
might be prisoner, and the less formidable denunciation inferred
from the appearance of the Bodach Glas might have proved the
true one. The approach of a party, sent for the purpose of
compelling the coimtry people to bury the dead, and who had
already assembled several peasants for that purpose, now obliged
Edward to rejoin his guide, who awaited him in great anxiety
and fear under shade of the plantations.

After leaving this field of death, the rest of their journey
was happily accomplished. At the house of Farmer Williams,
Edward passed for a young kinsman, educated for the church,
who was come to reside there till the civil tumults permitted
him to pass through the country. This silenced suspicion among
the kind and simple yeomanry of Cumberland, and accounted
sulficiently for the grave manners and retired habits of the new

WAVERLEY. 376

giiest. The precaution became more necessary than Waverley
had anticipated, as a variety of incidents prolonged his stay at
Fasthwaite, as the farm was called.

A tremendous fall of snow rendered his departure impossible
for more than ten days. When the roads began to become a
little practicable, they successively received news of the retreat
of the Chevalier into Scotland; then, that he had abandoned
the frontiers, retiring upon Glasgow ; and that the Duke of
Cumberland had formed the siege of Carlisle. His army,
therefore, cut off all possibility of Waverley's escaping into
Scotland in that direction. On the eastern border. Marshal
Wade, with a large force, was advancing upon Edinburgh;
and all along the frontier, parties of militia, volunteers, and
partisans, were in arms to suppress insurrection, and apprehend
such stragglers from the Highland army as had been left in
England. The surrender of Carlisle, and the severity with
which the rebel garrison were threatened, soon formed an
additional reason against venturing upon a solitary and hopeless
journey through a hostile country and a large army, to carry
the assistance of a single sword to a cause which seemed
altogether desperate.

In this lonely and secluded situation, without the advantage
of company or conversation with men of cultivated minds, the
arguments of Colonel Talbot often recurred to the mind of our
hero. A still more anxious recollection haunted his slumbers
— it was the dying look and gesture of Colonel Gardiner. Most
devoutly did he hope, as the rarely occurring post brought news
of skirmishes with various success, that it might never again
be his lot to draw his sword in civil conflict. Then hi^ mind
turned to the supposed death of Fergus, to the desolate situation
of Flora, and, with yet more tender recollection, to that of Rose
Bradwardine, who was destitute of the devoted enthusiasm of
loyalty, which, to her friend, hallowed and exalted misfortune.
These reveries he was permitted to enjoy, undisturbed by queries
or interruption; — and it was in many a winter walk by the
shores of UUswater, that he acquired a more complete mastery
of a spirit tamed by adversity than his former experience had
given him ; and that he felt himself entitled to say firmly,
though perhaps with a sigh, that the romance of his life was
ended, and that its real history had now commenced. He
was soon called upon to justify his pretensions by reason and
philosophy.

376 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIRST.

A JOURNEY TO LONDON.

The family at Fasthwaite were soon attached to Edward.
He had, indeed, that gentleness and urbanity which almost
universally attracts corresponding kindness ; and to their simple
ideas his learning gave him consequence, and his sorrows interest.
The last he ascribed, evasively, to the loss of a brother in the
skirmish near Clifton ; and in that primitive state of society,
where the ties of affection were highly deemed of, his continued
depression excited sympathy, but not surprise.

In the end of January, his more lively powers were called
out by the happy union of Edward Williams, the son of his
host, with Cicely Jopson. Our hero would not cloud with
sorrow the festivity attending the wedding of two persons to
whom he was so highly obliged. He therefore exerted himself,
danced, sung, played at the various games of the day, and was
the blithest of the company. The next morning, however, he
had more serious matters to think of.

The clergyman who had married the young couple was so
much pleased with the supposed student of divinity, that he
came next day from Penrith on purpose to pay him a visit.
This might have been a puzzling chapter had he entered into
any examination of our hero's supposed theological studies ; but
fortunately he loved better to hear and communicate the news
of the day. He brought with him two or three old newspapers,
in one of which Edward found a piece of intelligence that soon
rendered him deaf to every word which the Reverend Mr.
Twigtythe was saying upon the news from the north, and the
prospect of the Duke's speedily overtaking and crushing the
rebels. This was an article in these, or nearly these words :

"Died at his house, in Hill Street, Berkeley Square, upon
the 10th inst., Richard Waverley, Esq., second son of Sir Giles
Waverley of Waverley-Honour, etc. etc. He died of a lingering
disorder, augmented by the unpleasant predicament of suspicion
in which he stood, having been obliged to find bail to a high
amount, to meet an impending accusation of high-treason. Ad
accusation of the same grave crime hangs over his elder brother,
Sir Everard Waverley, the representative of that ancient family ;

WAVERLEY. 377

and we understand the day of his trial w^U be fixed early Id
the next month unless Edward Waverley, son of the deceased
Richard, and heir to the Baronet, shall surrender himself to
justice. In that case, we are assured, it is his Majesty's gracious
purpose to drop further proceedings upon the charge against
Sir Everard. This unfortunate young gentleman is ascertained
to have been in arms in the Pretender's service, and to have
marched along with the Highland troops into England. But
he has not been heard of since the skirmish at Clifton, on the
18th December last."

Such was this distracting paragraph. — "Good God!" ex-
claimed Waverley, " am I then a parricide 1 — Impossible ! My
father, who never showed the affection of a father while he
lived, cannot have been so much affected by my supposed death
as to hasten his own. No, I will not believe it, — it were dis-
traction to entertain for a moment such a horrible idea. But
it were, if possible, worse than parricide to suffer any danger to
hang over my noble and generous uncle, who has ever been more
to me than a father, if such evil can be averted by any sacrifice
on my part !"

While these reflections passed like the stings of scorpions
through Waverley's sensorium, the worthy divine was startled
in a long disquisition on the battle of Falkirk by the ghastliness
which they communicated to his looks, and asked him if he
was iU. Fortunately the bride, all smirk and blush, had just
entered the room. Mrs. Williams was none of the brightest of
women, but she was good-natured, and readily concluding that
Edward had been shocked by disagreeable news in the papers,
interfered so judiciously, that, without exciting suspicion, she
drew off Mr. Twigtythe's attention, and engaged it until he
soon after took his leave. Waverley then explained to his
friends, that he was under the necessity of going to London
with as little delay as possible.

One cause of delay, however, did occur, to which Waverley
had been very little accustomed. His purse, though well
stocked when he first went to TuUy-Veolan, had not been
reinforced since that period; and although his life since had
not been of a nature to exhaust it hastily (for he had lived
chiefly with his friends or with the army), yet he found, that,
after settling with his kind landlord, he should be too poor to
encounter the expense of travelling post. The best coursp

378 WAVEKLEY NOVELS.

therefore, seemed to be, to get into the great north road
about Boroiighbridge, and there take a place m the Northern
Diligence, — a huge old-fashioned tub, drawn by three horses,
which completed the journey from Edinburgh to London (God
willing, as the advertisement expressed it) in three weeks. Our
hero, therefore, took an affectionate farewell of his Cumberland
friends, whose kindness he promised never to forget, and tacitly
hoped one day to acknowledge by substantial proofs of grati-
tude. After some petty difficulties, and vexatious delays, and
after putting his dress into a shape better befitting his rank,
though perfectly plain and simple, he accomplished crossing
the country, and found himself in the desired vehicle, vis-drvis
to Mrs. Nosebag, the lady of Lieutenant Nosebag, adjutant and

riding-master of the dragoons, — a jolly woman of about

fifty, wearing a blue habit, faced with scarlet, and grasping a
silver-mounted horse-whip.

This lady was one of those active members of society who
take upon them f aire le frais de la conversation. She had just
returned from the north, and informed Edward how nearly her
regiment had cut the petticoat people into ribands at Falkirk,
" only somehow there was one of those nasty, awkward marshes,
that they are never without in Scotland, I think, and so our
poor dear little regiment suffered something, as my Nosebag
says, in that unsatisfactory affair. You, sir, have served in the
dragoons V Waverley was taken so much at unawares, that he
acquiesced.

0, I knew it at once ; I saw you were military from your
air, and I am sure you could be none of the foot-wobblers, as
my Nosebag calls them. What regiment pray?" Here was
a delightful question. Waverley, however, justly concluded
that this good lady had the whole army-list by heart ; and, to
avoid detection, by adhering to truth, answered — " Gardiner's
dragoons, ma'am ; but I have retired some time."

" 0 aye, those as won the race at the battle of Preston, as
my Nosebag says. Pray, sir, were you there ?"

" I was so unfortunate, madam," he replied, " as to witness
that engagement."

" And that was a misfortune that few of Gardiner's stood to
witness, I believe, sir — ha ! ha ! ha ! — I beg your pardon ; but
a soldier's wife loves a joke."

WAVERLEY. 379

"Devil confound you !" thought Waverley; "what infernal
luck has penned me up with this inquisitive hag !"

Fortunately the good lady did not stick long to one subject.

" We are coming to Ferrybridge, now," she said, " where there
was a party of ours left to support the beadles, and constables,
and justices, and these sort of creatures that are examining
papers and stopping rebels, and all that." They were hardly in
the inn before she dragged Waverley to the window, exclaunhig,
" Yonder comes Corporal Bridoon, of our poor dear troop ; he's
coming with the constable man : Bridoon's one of my lambs,

as Nosebag calls 'em. Come, Mr. a — a, — pray, what's

your name, sir?"

"Butler, ma'am," said Waverley, resolved rather to make
free with the name of a former fellow-officer, than run the risk
of detection by inventing one not to be found in the regiment.

" 0, you got a troop lately, when that shabby fellow, Waverley,
went over to the rebels. Lord, I wish our old cross Captain
Crump would go over to the rebels, that Nosebag might get the
troop ! — Lord, what can Bridoon be standing swinging on the
bridge for ? I'll be hanged if he a'nt hazy, as Nosebag says. —
Come, sir, as you and I belong to the service, we'll go put the
rascal in mind of his duty."

Waverley, with feelings more easily conceived than described,
saw himself obliged to follow this doughty female commander.
The gallant trooper was as like a lamb as a drunk corporal of
dragoons, about six feet high, with very broad shoulders, and
very thin legs, not to mention a great scar across his nose, could
well be. Mrs. Nosebag addressed him with something which,
if not an oath, sounded very like one, and commanded him to

attend to his duty. " You be d — d for a ," commenced

the gallant cavalier ; but, looking up in order to suit the action
to the words, and also to enforce the epithet which he meditated,
with an adjective applicable to the party, he recognised the
speaker, made his military salam, and altered his tone. — " Lord
love your handsome face. Madam Nosebag, is it you 1 Why, if
a poor fellow does happen to fire a slug of a morning, I am
sure you were never the lady to bring him to harm."

" Well, you rascallion, go, mind your duty ; this gentleman
and I belong to the service ; but be sure you look after that
shy cock in the slouched hat that sits in the comer of the coach.
I believe he's one of the rebels m disguise."

380 WAVERLEY NOTELS.

"D — n her gooseberry wig !" said the corporal, when she was
out of hearing. " That gimlet-eyed jade — mother adjutant, as
we call her — is a greater plague to the regiment than prevot-
marshal, sergeant-major, and old Hubble-de-ShufF the colonel
into the bargain. — Come, Master Constable, let's see if this shy
cock, as she calls him, (who, by the way, was a Quaker from
Leeds, with whom Mrs. Nosebag had had some tart argument
on the legality of bearing arms,) will stand godfather to a sup
of brandy, for your Yorkshire ale is cold on my stomach."

The vivacity of this good lady, as it helped Edward out of
this scrape, was like to have drawn him into one or two others.
In every town where they stopped, she wished to examine the
corps de garde, if there was one, and once very narrowly missed
introducing Waverley to a recruiting-sergeant of his own
regiment. Then she Captain'd and Butler'd him till he was
almost mad with vexation and anxiety ; and never was he more
rejoiced in his life at the termination of a journey, than when
the arrival of the coach in London freed him from the attentions
of Madam Nosebag.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SECOND.

what's to be done next ?

It was twilight when they arrived in town ; and having
shaken off his companions, and walked through a good many
streets to avoid the possibility of being traced by them, Edward
took a hackney-coach and drove to Colonel Talbot's house, in
one of the principal squares at the west end of the town. That
gentleman, by the death of relations, had succeeded since his
marriage to a large fortune, possessed considerable political
interest, and lived in what is called great style.

When Waverley knocked at his door, he found it at first
difficult to procure admittance, but at length was shown into
an apartment where the Colonel was at table. Lady Emily,
whose very beautiful features were still pallid from indisposition,
sate opposite to him. The instant he heard Wavcrley's voice,
he started up and embraced him "Frank Stanley, my dear
boy, how d'ye do? — Emily, my love, this is young Stanley."

WAVERLEY. 381

The blood started to the Lady's cheek as she gave Waverley
a reception, in which courtesy was mingled with kindness, while
her trembling hand and faltering voice showed how much she
was startled and discomposed. Dinner was hastily replaced,
and while Waverley was engaged in refreshing himself, the
Colonel proceeded — "I wonder you have come here, Frank-
the doctors tell me the air of Loudon is very bad for your
complaints. You should not have risked it. But I am delighted
to see you, and so is Emily, though I fear we must not reckon
upon your staying long."

"Some particular business brought me up," muttered Wa-
verley.

" I supposed so, but I sha'n't allow you to stay long. — Spon-
toon" (to an elderly military-looking servant out of livery),
"take away these things, and answer the bell yourself, if I
ring. Don't let any of the other fellows disturb us. — My
nephew and I have business to talk of."

When the servants had retired, "In the name of God,
Waverley, what has brought you here 1 It may be as much as
your life is worth."

" Dear Mr. Waverley," said Lady Emily, " to whom I owe so
much more than acknowledgments can ever pay, how could you
be so rash?"

"My father — my uncle — this paragraph," — he handed the
paper to Colonel Talbot.

" I wish to Heaven these scoundrels were condemned to be
squeezed to death in their own presses," said Talbot. " I am
told there are not less than a dozen of their papers now pub-
lished in town, and no wonder that they are obliged to invent
lies to find sale for their journals. It is true, however, my dear
Edward, that you have lost your father ; but as to this flourish
of his unpleasant situation having grated upon his spirits, and
hurt his health — the truth is — for though it is harsh to say so
now, yet it will relieve your mind from the idea of weighty
responsibility — the truth then is, that Mr. Kichard Waverley,
through this whole business, showed great want of sensibility,
both to your situation and that of your uncle; and the last
time I saw him, he told me, with great glee, that as I was so
good as to take charge of your interests, he had thought it best
to patch up a separate negotiation for himself, and make hie

382 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

peace with Government through some channels which former
connections left still open to him."

" And my uncle — my dear uncle ?"

" Is in no danger whatever. It is true (looking at the date
of the paper) there was a foolish report some time ago to the
purport here quoted, but it is entirely false. Sir Everard is
gone down to Waverley-Honour, freed from all uneasiness,
unless upon your own account. But you are in peril yourself —
your name is in every proclamation — warrants are out to appre-
hend you. How and when did you come here 1"

Edward told his story at length, suppressing his quarrel with
Fergus ; for being himself partial to Highlanders, he did not
wish to give any advantage to the Colonel's national prejudice
against them.

" Are you sure it was your friend Glen's footboy you saw dead
in Clifton Moor?"

" Quite positive."

" Then that little limb of the devil has cheated the gallows,
for cut-throat was written in his face ; though" (turning to Lady
Emily) " it was a very handsome face too. — But for you, Edward,
I wish you would go down again to Cumberland, or rather I
wish you had never stirred from thence, for there is an embargo
on all the seaports, and a strict search for the adherents of the
Pretender ; and the tongue of that confounded woman will wag
in her head like the clack of a mill, till somehow or other she
will detect Captain Butler to be a feigned personage."

" Do you know anything," asked Waverley, " of my feUow-
traveller?"

" Her husband was my serjeant-major for six years ; she was
a buxom widow, with a little money — ^he married her — was
steady, and got on by being a good drill. I must send Spontoon
to see what she is about ; he will find her out among the old
regimental connexions. To-morrow you must be indisposed,
and keep your room from fatigue. Lady Emily is to be your
nurse, and Spontoon and I your attendants. You bear the
name of a near relation of mine, whom none of my present
people ever saw, except Spontoon ; so there will be no immediate
danger. So pray feel your head ache and your eyes grow heavy
as soon as possible, that you may be put upon the sick list ;
and, Emily, do you order an apartment for Frank Stanley, with
aJJ the attention which an invalid may require."

WAVERLEY. 383

In the morning the Colonel visited his giiest. — " Now," said
he, " I have some good news for you. Your reputation as a
gentleman and officer is effectually cleared of neglect of duty,
and accession to the mutiny in Gardiner's regiment. I have had
a correspondence on this subject with a very zealous friend of
yours, your Scottish parson, Morton ; his first letter was addressed
to Sir Everard ; but I relieved the good Baronet of the trouble
of answering it. You must know, that your freebooting
acquaintance, Donald of the Cave, has at length fallen into the
hands of the Philistines. He was driving off the cattle of a
certain proprietor, called Killan — something or other "

" Killancureit r'

" The same. Now, the gentleman being, it seems, a great
farmer, and having a special value for his breed of cattle —
being, moreover, rather of a timid disposition, had got a party
of soldiers to protect his property. So Donald ran his head
unawares into the lion's mouth, and was defeated and made
prisoner. Being ordered for execution, his conscience was
assailed on the one hand by a Catholic priest, — on the other by
your friend Morton. He repulsed the Catholic chiefly on account
of the doctrine of extreme unction, which this economical
gentleman considered as an excessive waste of oil. So his
conversion from a state of impenitence fell to Mr. Morton's
share, who, I dare say, acquitted himself excellently, though, I
suppose, Donald made but a queer kind of Christian after all.
He confessed, however, before a magistrate — one Major Melville,
who seems to have been a correct, friendly sort of person — his
full intrigue with Houghton, explaining particularly how it was
carried on, and fully acquitting you of the least accession to
it. He also mentioned his rescuing you from the hands of the
volunteer officer, and sending you, by orders of the Pret —
Chevalier, I mean — as a prisoner to Doune, from whence he
understood you were carried prisoner to Edinburgh. These are
particulars which cannot but tell in your favour. He hinted
that he had been employed to deliver and protect you, and
rewarded for doing so; but he would not confess by whom,
alleging, that, though he would not have minded breaking any
ordinary oath to satisfy the curiosity of Mr. Morton, to whose
pious admonitions he owed so much, yet in the present case he
had been sworn to silence upon the edge of his dirk,* which, it
seems, constituted, in his opinion, an inviolable obligation.
Note B B. Oath upon the Birk.

384 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" And what has become of him 1"

" Oh, he was hanged at Stirling after the rebels raised
siege, with his lieutenant, and four plaids besides; he having
the advantage of a gallows more lofty than his friends."

" Well, I have little cause either to regret or rejoice at his
death ; and yet he has done me both good and harm to a very
considerable extent."

" His confession, at least, will serve you materially, since it
wipes from your character all those suspicions which gave the
accusation against you a complexion of a nature different from
that with which so many unfortunate gentlemen, now or lately
in arms against the Grovemment, may be justly charged. Their
treason — I must give it its name, though you participate in its
guilt — is an action arising from mistaken virtue, and therefore
cannot be classed as a disgrace, though it be doubtless highly
criminal. Where the guilty are so numerous, clemency must be
extended to far the greater number ; and I have little doubt of
procuring a remission for you, provided we can keep you out of
the claws of justice till she has selected and gorged upon her vic-
tims j for in this, as in other cases, it will be according to the vul-
gar proverb, ' First come, first served.' Besides, Government are
desirous at present to intimidate the English Jacobites, among
whom they can find few examples for punishment. This is a
vindictive and timid feeling which will soon wear off, for, of all
nations, the English are least bloodthirsty by nature. But it
exists at present, and you must therefore be kept out of the way
in the meantime."

Now entered Spontoon with an anxious countenance. By his
regimental acquaintances he had traced out Madam Nosebag, and
found her full of ire, fuss, and fidget, at discovery of an impostor,
who had travelled from the north with her under the assumed
name of Captain Butler of Gardiner's dragoons. She was going
to lodge an information on the subject, to have him sought for
as an emissary of the Pretender ; but Spontoon, (an old soldier,)
while he pretended to approve, contrived to make her delay her
intention. No time, however, was to be lost : the accuracy of
this good dame's description might probably lead to the discovery
that Waverley was the pretended Captain Butler ; an identi-
fication fraught with danger to Edward, perhaps to his uncle,
and even to Colonel Talbot. Which way to direct his course
was now, therefore, the question.

WAVERLEY. 386

" To Scotland," said Waverley.

"To Scotland !" said the Colonel; "with what purpose? —
Qot to engage again with the rebels I hope ?"

" No — I considered my campaign ended, when, after all my
efforts, I could not rejoin them ; and now, by all accounts, they
are gone to make a winter campaign in the Highlands, where
such adherents as I am would rather be burdensome than useful.
Indeed, it seems likely that they only prolong the war to place
the Chevalier's person out of danger, and then to make some
terms for themselves. To burden them with my presence would
merely add another party, whom they would not give up, and
could not defend. I understand they left almost all their
English adherents in garrison at Carlisle, for that very reason :
— and on a more general view. Colonel, to confess the truth,
though it may lower me in your opinion, I am heartily tired of
the trade of war, and am, as Fletcher's Humorous Lieutenant
says, '■ even as weary of this fighting' "

" Fighting ? pooh, what have you seen but a skirmish or two ]
— Ah ! if you saw war on the grand scale — sixty or a hundred
thousand men in the field on each side !"

" I am not at aD curious. Colonel. — ' Enough,' says om- homely
proverb, ' is as good as a feast.' The plumed troops and the big
war used to enchant me in poetry; but the night marches,
vigils, couched under the wintry sky, and such accompaniments
of the glorious trade, are not at all to my taste in practice : —
then for dry blows, I had my fill of fighting at Clifton, where I
escaped by a hair's-breadth half-a-dozen times ; and you, I should
think " He stopped.

" Had enough of it at Preston ? you mean to say," answered
the Colonel laughing ; but, ' 'tis my vocation, Hal.' "

"It is not mine, though," said Waverley; "and having
honourably got rid of the sword, which I drew only as a volun-
teer, I am quite satisfied with my military experience, and shall
be in no hurry to take it up again."

" I am very glad you are of that mind — but then, what would
you do in the North ?"

" In the first place, there are some seaports on the eastern
coast of Scotland still in the hands of the Chevalier's friends ;
should I gain any of them, I can easily embark for the
Continent."

" Good — your second reason ?"

voii. I. 2 c

^86 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" Why, to speak the very truth, there is a person in Scotland
upon whom I now find my happiness depends more than I
was always aware, and about whose situation I am very
anxious."

" Then Emily was right, and there is a love affair in the case
after all 1 — ^And which of these two pretty Scotchwomen, whom
you insisted upon my admiring, is the distinguished fair? —
not Miss Glen 1 hope."

" No."

" Ah, pass for the other : simplicity may be improved, but
pride and conceit never. Well, I don't discourage you ; I think
it will please Sir Everard, from what he said when I jested with
him about it ; only I hope that intolerable papa, with his brogue,
and his snuff, and his Latin, and his insufferable long stories
about the Duke of Berwick, will find it necessary hereafter, to
be an inhabitant of foreign parts. But as to the daughter,
though I think you might find as fitting a match in England,
yet if your heart be really set upon this Scotch Rosebud, why
the Baronet has a great opinion of her father and of his family,
and he wishes much to see you married and settled, both for
your own sake and for that of the three ermines passant,
which may otherwise pass away altogether. But I will bring
you his mind fully upon the subject, since you are debarred
correspondence for the present, for I think you will not be long
in Scotland before me."

" Indeed ! and what can induce you to think of returning to
Scotland 1 No relentless longings towards the land of mountains
and floods I am afraid."

" None, on my word ; but Emily's health is now, thank God,
re-established, and, to tell you the truth, I have little hopes of
concluding the business which I have at present most at heart,
until I can have a personal interview with his Royal Highness
the Commander-in-Chief ; for, as Fluellen says, * The duke doth
love me well, and I thank heaven, I have deserved some love
at his hands.' I am now going out for an hour or two to
arrange matters for your departure ; your liberty extends to the
next room, Lady Emily's parlour, where you will find her when
you are disposed for music, reading, or conversation. We have
taken measures to exclude all servants but Spontoon, who is as
true as steel."

In about two hours Colonel Talbot returned, and found his

WAVERLEY. 387

young friend conversing with his lady; she pleased with his
manners and information, and he delighted at being restored,
though but for a moment, to the society of his own rank, from
which he had been for some time excluded.

" And now," said the Colonel, " hear my arrangements, for
there is little time to lose. This youngster, Edward Waverley,
alias Williams, alias Captain Butler, must continue to pass by
his fourth alias of Francis Stanley, my nephew : he shall set out
to-morrow for the North, and the chariot shall take him the
first two stages. Spontoon shall then attend him ; and they
shall ride post as far as Huntingdon; and the presence of
Spontoon, well known on the road as my servant, will check all
disposition to inquiry. At Huntingdon you will meet the real
Frank Stanley. He is studying at Cambridge; but, a little
while ago, doubtful if Emily's health would permit me to go
do^vn to the North myself, I procured him a passport from the
Secretary of State's office to go in my stead. As he went chiefly
to look after you, his journey is now unnecessary. He knows
your story; you will dine together at Huntingdon; and per-
haps your wise heads may hit upon some plan for removing oi
diminishing the danger of your further progress northward.
And now (taking out a morocco case), let me put you in funds
for the campaign.

"I am ashamed, my dear Colonel, "

"Nay," said Colonel Talbot, "you should command my
purse in any event ; but this money is your own. Your father,
considering the chance of your being attainted, left me his
trustee for yoiu* advantage. So that you are worth above
£15,000, besides Brerewood Lodge — a very independent person,
I promise you. There are bills here for £200; any larger
sum you may have, or credit abroad, as soon as your motions
require it."

The first use which occmred to Waverley of his newly-
acquired wealth, was to write to honest Farmer Jopson,
requesting his acceptance of a silver tankard on the part of
his friend Williams, who had not forgotten the night of the
eighteenth December last. He begged him at the same time
carefully to preserve for him his Highland garb and accoutre-
ments, particularly the arms — curious in themselves, and to
which the friendship of the donors gave additional value. Lady
Emily undertook to find some suitable token of remembrance,

388 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

likely to flatter the vanity and please the taste of Mrs. Williams;
and the Colonel, who was a kind of farmer, promised to send
the Ullswater patriarch an excellent team of horses for cart and
plough.

One happy day Waverley spent in London ; and, travelling
in the manner projected, he met with Frank Stanley at Hunt-
ingdon. The two young men were acquainted in a minute.

" I can read my uncle's riddle," said Stanley. " The cautious
old soldier did not care to hint to me that I might hand over
to you this passport, which I have no occasion for ; but if it
should afterwards come out as the rattle-pated trick of a young
Cantab, cela ne tire d rien. You are therefore to be Francis
Stanley, with this passport." This proposal appeared in effect
to alleviate a great part of the diflSculties which Edward must
otherwise have encountered at every turn ; and accordingly he
scrupled not to avail himself of it, the more especially as he had
discarded all political purposes from his present journey, and
could not be accused of furthering machinations against the
Government while travelling under protection of the Secretary's
passport.

The day passed merrily away. The young student was
inquisitive about Waverley's campaigns, and the manners of the
Highlands; and Edward was obliged to satisfy his curiosity
by whistling a pibroch, dancing a strathspey, and singing a
Highland song. The next morning Stanley rode a stage north-
ward with his new friend, and parted from him with great re-
luctance, upon the remonstrances of Spontoon, who, accustomed
to submit to discipline, was rigid in enforcing it.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THIRD.

DESOLATION.

Waverley riding post, as was the usual fashion of the period,
without any adventure save one or two queries, which the talis-
man of his passport sufficiently answered, reached the borders
of Scotland. Here he heard the tidings of the decisive battle
of Culloden. It was no more than he had long expected, though
the success at Falkirk had thrown a faint and setting gleam

WAVERLEY. 889

over the arms of the Chevalier. Yet it came upon him like a
shock, by which he was for a time altogether umnamied. The
generous, the courteous, the noble-minded Adventurer, was then
a fugitive, with a price upon his head ; his adlierents, so brave,
so enthusiastic, so faithful, were dead, imprisoned, or exiled.
Where, now, was the exalted and high-souled Fergus, if, indeed,
he had siu^ived the night at Clifton ? — where the pure-hearted
and primitive Baron of Bradwardine, whose foibles seemed foils
to set off the disinterestedness of his disposition, the genuine
goodness of his heart, and his unshaken courage ? Those who
clung for support to these fallen columns, Rose and Flora, —
where were they to be sought, and in what distress must not
the loss of their natm-al protectors have involved them? Of
Flora he thought with the regard of a brother for a sister — of
Rose, with a sensation yet more deep and tender. It might be
still his fate to supply the want of those guardians they had
lost. Agitated by these thoughts, he precipitated his journey.

When he arrived in Edinburgh, where his inquiries must
necessarily commence, he felt the full difl&culty of his situation.
Many inhabitants of that city had seen and known him as
Edward Waverley ; how, then, could he avail himself of a pass-
port as Francis Stanley ? He resolved, therefore, to avoid all
company, and to move northward as soon as possible. He was,
however, obliged to wait a day or two in expectation of a
letter from Colonel Talbot, and he was also to leave his own
address, under his feigned character, at a place agreed upon.
With this latter purpose he sallied out in the dusk through the
well-known streets, carefully shunning observation, — but in
vain : one of the first persons whom he met at once recognised
him. It was Mrs. Flockhart, Fergus Mac-Ivor's good-humoured
landlady.

" Gude guide us, Mr. Waverley, is this you ? — na, ye needna
be feared for me — I wad betray nae gentleman in your circiun-
stances. Eh, lack-a-day ! lack-a-day ! here's a change o'
markets ! how merry Colonel Mac-Ivor and you used to be
in our house?" And the good-natured widow shed a few
natural tears. As there was no resisting her claim of acquaint-
ance, Waverley acknowledged it with a good grace, as well as
the danger of his own situation. " As it's near the darkening,
sir, wad ye just step in by to our house, and tak a dish o' tea ]
and I am sure, if ye like to sleep in the little room, I wad tak

390 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

care ye are no disturbed, and naebody wad ken ye ; for Kate
and Matty, the limmers, gaed aff wi twa o' Hawley's dragoons,
and I hae twa new queans instead o' them."

Waverley accepted her invitation, and engaged her lodging
for a night or two, satisfied he should be safer in the house of
this simple creature than anywhere else. When he entered the
parlour, his heart swelled to see Fergus's bonnet, with the white
cockade, hanging beside the little mirror.

"Ay," said Mrs. Flockhart, sighing, as she observed the
direction of his eyes, " the poor Colonel bought a new ane just
the day before they marched, and I winna let them tak that
ane doon, but just to brush it ilka day my sell ; and whUes I
look at it tUl I just think I hear him cry to Galium to bring
him his bonnet, as he used to do when he was ganging out. —
It's unco silly — the neighbours ca' me a Jacobite — but they
may say their say — I am sure it's no for that — ^but he was as
kind-hearted a gentleman as ever lived, and as weel-far'd too.
Oh, d'ye ken, sir, when he is to suffer 1"

" Suffer ! Good heaven ! — Why, where is he !"

"Eh, Lord's sake! d'ye no ken? The poor Hieland body,
Dugald Mahoney, cam here a while syne, wi' ane o' his arms
cuttit off, and a sair clour in the head — ye'll mind Dugald 1 he
carried aye an axe on his shouther — and he cam here just
begging, as I may say, for something to eat. Aweel, he tauld
us the Chief, as they ca'd him (but I aye ca' him the Colonel),
and Ensign Maccombich, that ye muid weel, were ta'en some-
where beside the English border, when it was sae dark that his
folk never missed him till it was ower late, and they were like
to gang clean daft. And he said that little Callum Beg (he
was a bauld mischievous callant that), and your honour, were
kiUed that same night in the tuilzie, and mony mae braw men.
But he grat when he spak o' the Colonel, ye never saw the like.
And now the word gangs, the Colonel is to be tried, and to
suffer wi' them that were ta'en at Carlisle."

" And his sister?"

" Ay, that they ca'd the Lady Flora — weel, she's away up to
Carlisle to him, and lives wi' some grand Papist lady there
abouts, to be near him."

" And," said Edward, "the other young lady?"

" Whilk other? I ken only of ae sister the Colonel had,"

" I mean Miss Bradwardine," said Edward.

WAVERLEy. 391

" Ou ay, the laird's daughter," said his landlady. " She
was a very bonny lassie, poor thing, but far shyer than Lady
Flora."

" Where is she, for God's sake ?"

" Ou, wha kens where ony o' them is now ? Puir things,
they're sair ta'en doun for their white cockades and their white
roses ; but she gaed north to her father's in Perthshire, when
the government troops cam back to Edinbro'. There was some
pretty men amang them, and ane Major Whacker was quartered
on me, a very ceevil gentleman, — but 0, Mr. Waverley, he was
naething sae weel-far'd as the poor Colonel."

" Do you know what is become of Miss Bradwardine's
father?"

" The auld laird ? — na, naebody kens that ; but they say he
fought very hard in that bluidy battle at Inverness ; and Deacon
Clank, the white-iron smith, says, that the Government folk
are sair agane him for having been out twice ; and troth he
might hae ta'en warning, — but there's nae fule like an auld
fule — the poor Colonel was only out ance."

Such conversation contained almost all the good-natured
widow knew of the fate of her late lodgers and acquaintances ;
but it was enough to determine Edward at all hazards to pro-
ceed instantly to Tully-Veolan, where he concluded he should
see, or at least hear, something of Rose. He therefore left a
letter for Colonel Talbot at the place agreed upon, signed by his
assumed name, and giving for his address the post-town next to
the Baron's residence.

From Edinburgh to Perth he took post-horses, resolving to
make the rest of his journey on foot — a mode of travelling to
which he was partial, and which had the advantage of permit-
ting a deviation from the road when he saw parties of military
at a distance. His campaign had considerably strengthened his
constitution, and improved his habits of enduring fatigue. His
baggage he sent before him as opportunity occurred.

As he advanced northward, the traces of war became visible.
Broken carriages, dead horses, unroofed cottages, trees felled
for palisades, and bridges destroyed, or only partially repaired, —
all indicated the movements of hostile armies. In those places
where the gentry were attached to the Stuart cause, their houses
seemed dismantled or deserted, the usual course of what may
be called ornamental labour was totally interrupted, and the

392 WjLVERLEY NOVELS.

inhabitants were seen gliding about, with fear, sorrow,
dejection on their faces.

It was evening when he approached the village of Tully-
Veolan, with feelings and sentiments — how different from those
which attended his first entrance ! Then, life was so new to
him, that a dull or disagreeable day was one of the greatest
misfortunes which his imagination anticipated, and it seemed
to him that his time ought only to be consecrated to elegant or
amusing study, and relieved by social or youthful frolic. Now,
how changed ! how saddened, yet how elevated was his char-
acter, within the course of a very few months ! Danger and
misfortune are rapid, though severe teachers. " A sadder and
a wiser man," he felt, in internal confidence and mental dignity,
a compensation for the gay dreams which, in his case, experience
had so rapidly dissolved.

As he approached the village, he saw, with surprise and
anxiety, that a party of soldiers were quartered near it, and,
what was worse, that they seemed stationary there. This he
conjectured from a few tents which he beheld glimmering upon
what was called the Common Moor. To avoid the risk of
being stopped and questioned in a place where he was so likely
to be recognised, he made a large circuit, altogether avoiding
the hamlet, and approaching the upper gate of the avenue by
a by-path well known to him. A single glance announced that
great changes had taken place. One half of the gate, entirely
destroyed and split up for firewood, lay in piles, ready to be
taken away ; the other swung uselessly about upon its loosened
hinges. The battlements above the gate were broken and thrown
down, and the carved Bears, which were said to have done
sentinel's duty upon the top for centuries, now, hurled from
their posts, lay among the rubbish. The avenue was cruelly
wasted. Several large trees were felled and left lying across
the path ; and the cattle of the villagers, and the more rude
hoofs of dragoon horses, had poached into black mud the verdant
turf which Waverley had so much admired.

Upon entering the court-yard, Edward saw the fears realised
which these circumstances had excited. The place had been
sacked by the King's troops, who, in wanton mischief, had even
attempted to bum it ; and though the thickness of the walls
had resisted the fire, unless to a partial extent, the stables and
out-houses were totally consumed. The towers and pinnacles

WAVERLEY. 39^

of the main building were scorched and blackened ; the pave-
ment of the court broken and shattered ; the doors torn down
entirely, or hanging by a single hinge ; the windows dashed in
and demolished ; and the court strewed with aiticles of furniture
broken into fragments. The accessaries of ancient distinction,
to which the Baron, in the pride of his heart, had attached so
much importance and veneration, were treated with peculiar con-
tumely. The fountain was demolished, and the spring which
had supplied it now flooded the court-yard. The stone basin
seemed to be destined for a drinking-trough for cattle, from the
manner in which it was an'anged upon the ground. The whole
tribe of Bears, large and small, had experienced as little favour
as those at the head of the avenue ; and one or two of the
family pictures, which seemed to have served as targets for the
soldiers, lay on the ground in tatters. With an aching heart,
as may well be imagined, Edward viewed this wreck of a man-
sion so respected. But his anxiety to learn the fate of the pro-
prietors, and his fears as to what that fate might be, increased
with every step. When he entered upon the terrace new scenes
of desolation were visible. The balustrade was broken down,
the walls destroyed, the borders overgrown with weeds, and the
fruit-trees cut down or grubbed up. In one compartment of this
old-fashioned garden were two immense horse-chestnut trees,
of whose size the Baron was particularly vain : too lazy, perhaps,
to cut them down, the spoilers, with malevolent ingenuity, had
mined them, and placed a quantity of gunpowder in the cavity.
One had been shivered to pieces by the explosion, and the frag-
ments lay scattered around, encumbering the ground it had so
long shadowed. The other mine had been more partial in its
efi'ect. About one fourth of the trunk of the tree was torn from
the mass, which, mutilated and defaced on the one side, still
spread on the other its ample and undiminished boughs.*

Amid these general marks of ravage, there were some which
more particularly addressed the feelings of Waverley. Viewing
the front of the building, thus wasted and defaced, his eyes
naturally sought the little balcony which more properly belonged
to Rose's apartment — her troisieme, or rather cinquidme etage.
It was easily discovered, for beneath it lay the stage-flowers and

* A pair of chestnut trees, destroyed, the one entirely, and the other in
part, by such a mischievous and wanton act of revenge, grew at Invergarry
Castle, the fastness of Macdouald of Glengarry.

394 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

i

shrubs with which it was her pride to decorate it, and which
had been hurled from the bartizan : several of her books were
mingled with broken flower-pots and other remnants. Among
these, Waverley distinguished one of his own, a small copy of
Ariosto, and gathered it as a treasure, though wasted by the
wind and rain.

While plunged in the sad reflections which the scene excited,
he was looking around for some one who might explain the fate
of the inhabitants, he heard a voice from the interior of the
building singing, in well-remembered accents, an old Scottish
song :

They came upon us in tlie night,

And brake my bower and slew my knight :

My servants a' for life did flee,

And left us in extremitie.

They slew my knight, to me sae dear ;
They slew my knight, and drave his gear ; *
The moon may set, the sun may rise,
But a deadly sleep has closed his eyes.

4

"Alas !" thought Edward, "is it thou? Poor helpless being,
art thou alone left, to gibber and moan, and fill with thy wild
and unconnected scraps of minstrelsy the halls that protected
thee?" — He then called, first low, and then louder, "Davie —
Davie Gellatley !"

The poor simpleton showed himself from among the ruins of
a sort of green-house, that once terminated what was called the
Terrace- walk, but at first sight of a stranger retreated as if in
terror. Waverley, remembering his habits, began to whistle a
tune to which he was partial, which Davie had expressed great
pleasure in listening to, and had picked up from him by the ear.
Our hero's minstrelsy no more equalled that of Blondel, than
poor Davie resembled Coeiu- de Lion ; but the melody had the
same efi"ect of producing recognition. Davie again stole from
his lurking-place, but timidly, while Waverley, afraid of
frightening him, stood making the most encouraging signals he
could devise. — " It's his ghaist," muttered Davie ; yet, coming
nearer, he seemed to acknowledge his living acquaintance. The
poor fool himself appeared the ghost of what he had been.
The peculiar dress in which he had been attired in better days,

* The first three couplets are from an old ballad, called the Border Widow's
Lament.

WAVEELEY. 395

showed only miserable rags of its whimsical finery, the lack of
which was oddly supplied by the remnants of tapestried hang-
ings, window-cm-tains, and shreds of pictures, with which he
had bedizened his tatters. His face, too, had lost its vacant
and careless air, and the poor creature looked hollow-eyed,
meagre, half-starved, and nervous to a pitiable degree. — After
long hesitation, he at length approached Waverley with some
confidence, stared him sadly in the face, and said, " A' dead and
gane — a' dead and gane !"

"Who are dead?" said Waverley, forgetting the incapacity
of Davie to hold any connected discourse.

" Baron — and Bailie — and Saunders Saunderson — and Lady
Rose, that sang sae sweet — A' dead and gane — dead and gane !

But follow, follow me,

While glow-worms light the lea ;

I'll show you where the dead should be —

Each in his shroud,

While winds pipe loud,

And the red moon peeps dim through the cloud.
Follow, follow me ;
Brave should he be
That treads by night the dead man's lea."

With these words, chanted in a wild and earnest tone, he
made a sign to Waverley to follow him, and walked rapidly
towards the bottom of the garden, tracing the bank of the stream,
which, it may be remembered, was its eastern boundary. Edward,
over whom an involuntary shuddering stole at the import of his
words, followed him in some hope of an explanation. As the
house was evidently deserted, he could not expect to find among
the ruins any more rational informer.

Davie, walking very fast, soon reached the extremity of the
garden, and scrambled over the ruins of the wall that once had
divided it from the wooded glen in which the old Tower of
Tully-Yeolan was situated. He then jumped down into the
bed of the stream, and, followed by Waverley, proceeded at a
great pace, climbing over some fragments of rock, and turning
with difficulty round others. They passed beneath the ruins of
the castle ; Waverley followed, keeping up with his guide with
difficulty, for the twilight began to fall. Following the descent
of the stream a little lower, he totally lost him, but a twinkling
light, which he now discovered among the tangled copse-wood
a-nd bushes, seemed a surer guide. He soon pursued a very

396 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

a

uncouth path ; and by its guidance at length reached the door
of a wretched hut. A fierce barking of dogs was at first heard,
but it stilled at his approach. A voice sounded from within,
and he held it most prudent to listen before he advanced.

" Wha hast thou brought here, thou unsonsy villain thou?"
said an old woman, apparently in great indignation. He heard
Davie Gellatley, in answer, whistle a part of the tune by which
he had recalled himself to the simpleton's memory, and had
now no hesitation to knock at the door. There was a dead
silence instantly within, except the deep growling of the dogs ;
and he next heard the mistress of the hut approach the door,
not probably for the sake of imdoing a latch, but of fastening a
bolt. To prevent this Waverley lifted the latch himself.

" In front was an old wretched-looking woman, exclaiming,
"Wha comes into folk's houses in this gate, at this time o'
the night?" On one side, two grim and half-starved deer grey-
hounds laid aside their ferocity at his appearance, and seemed
to recognise him. On the other side, half concealed by the open
door, yet apparently seeking that concealment reluctantly, with
a cocked pistol in his right hand, and his left in the act of
drawing another from his belt, stood a tall bony gaunt figure
in the remnants of a faded uniform, and a beard of three weeks'
growth.

It was the Baron of Bradwardine. It is unnecessary to add,
that he threw aside his weapon, and greeted Waverley with a
hearty embrace.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOURTH.

COMPAKING OF NOTES.

The Baron's story was short, when divested of the adages and
commonplaces, Latin, English, and Scotch, with which his
erudition garnished it. He insisted much upon his grief at the
loss of Edward and of Glennaquoich, fought the fields of Falkirk
and Culloden, and related how, after all was lost in the last
battle, he had returned home, under the idea of more easily
finding shelter among his own tenants and on his own estate,
than elsewhere. A party of soldiers had been sent to lay waste
his property, for clemency was not the order of the day. Their

WAVERLET. 397

proceedings, however, were checked by an order from the civil
court. The estate, it was found, might not be forfeited to the
crown, to the prejudice of Malcobn Bradwardine of Inch-Grabbit,
the heir-male, whose claim could not be prejudiced by the
Baron's attainder, as deriving no right through him, and who,
therefore, like other heirs of entail in the same situation, entered
upon possession. But, unlike many in similar circumstances,
the new laird speedily showed that he intended utterly to exclude
his predecessor from all benefit or advantage in the estate, and
that it was his purpose to avail himself of the old Baron's evil
fortune to the full extent. This was the more ungenerous,
as it was generally known, that, from a romantic idea of not
prejudicing this young man's right as heir-male, the Baron had
refrained from settling his estate on his daughter.

This selfish injustice was resented by the country people,
who were partial to their old master, and irritated against his
successor. In the Baron's own words, "The matter did not
coincide with the feelings of the commons of Bradwardine, Mr.
Waverley ; and the tenants were slack and repugnant in
payment of their mails and duties ; and when my kinsman
came to the village wi' the new factor, Mr. James Howie, to
lift the rents, some wanchancy person — I suspect John Heather-
blutter, the auld gamekeeper, that was out wi' me in the year
fifteen — fired a shot at him in the gloaming, whereby he was
so afl&ighted, that I may say with Tullius in Catilinam, Ahiit,
evasit, erupit, effugit. He fled, sir, as one may say, incon-
tinent to Stirling. And now he hath advertised the estate for
sale, being himself the last substitute in the entail. — And if I
were to lament about sic matters, this would grieve me mair
than its passing from my immediate possession, whilk, by the
course of nature, must have happened in a few years. Whereas
now it passes from the lineage that should have possessed it in
scecula sceculorum. But God's will be done, humana perpessi
sfvumus. Sir John of Bradwardine — Black Sir John, as he is
called — ^who was the common ancestor of our house and the
Inch-Grabbits, little thought such a person would have sprung
from his loins. Meantime, he has accused me to some of the
primates, the rulers for the time, as if I were a cut-throat, and
an abettor of bravoes and assassinates, and coupe-j arrets. And
they have sent soldiers here to abide on the estate, and hunt
me like a partridge upon the mountains, as Scripture says of

398 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

^ood King David, or like our vaKant Sir William Wallace,—
not that I bring myself into comparison with either. — I thought,
when I heard you at the door, they had driven the auld deer
to his den at last ; and so I e'en proposed to die at bay, like a
buck of the first head. — But now, Janet, canna ye gie us some-
thing for supper?"

" Ou ay, sir, I'll brander the moor fowl that John Heather-
blutter brought in this morning; and ye see puir Davie's
roasting the black hen's eggs. — I daur say, Mr. Wauverley, ye
never kend that a' the eggs that were sae weel roasted at supper
in the Ha'-house were aye turned by our Davie? — there's no
the like o' him ony gate for powtering wi' his fingers amang the
het peat-ashes, and roasting eggs." Davie all this while lay
with his nose almost in the fire, nuzzling among the ashes,
kicking his heels, mumbling to himself, turning the eggs as they
lay in the hot embers, as if to confute the proverb, that " there
goes reason to roasting of eggs," and justify the eulogium which
poor Janet poured out upon

Him whom she loved, her idiot boy.

" Davie's no sae sUly as folk tak him for, Mr. Wauverley ;
he wadna hae brought you here unless he had kend ye was a
friend to his Honour — indeed the very dogs kend ye, Mr.
Wauverley, for ye was aye kind to beast and body. — I can tell
you a story o' Davie, wi' his Honour's leave : His Honour, ye
see, being under hiding in thae sair times — the mau-'s the pity —
he lies a' day, and whiles a' night, in the cove in the dem hag ;
but though it's a bieldy eneugh bit, and the auld gudeman o'
Corse-Cleugh has panged it wi' a kemple o' strae amaist, yet
when the country's quiet, and the night very cauld, his Honour
whiles creeps doun here to get a warm at the iagle, and a
sleep among the blankets, and gangs awa in the morning.
And so, ae morning, siccan a fright as I got ! Twa unlucky
red-coats were up for black-fishing, or some siccan ploy — for
the neb o' them's never out o' mischief — and they just got a
glisk o' his Honour as he gaed into the wood, and banged aflf a
gun at him. I out like a jer-falcon, and cried, — 'Wad they
shoot an honest woman's poor innocent bairn?' And I fleyt
at them, and threepit it was my son ; and they damned and
swuir at me that it was the auld rebel, as the villains ca'd his
Honour; and Davie was in tiie wood, and heard the tidlzie,

WAVERLEY. 39^

and he, just out o' his ain head, got up the auld grey mantle
that his Honour had flung ofl" him to gang the faster, and he
came out o' the very same bit o' the wood, majoring and looking
about sae like his Honour, that they were clean beguiled, and
thought they had letten aff their gun at crack-brained Sawney,
as they ca'd him ; and they gae me saxpence, and twa saumon
fish, to say naething about it. — Na, na ; Davie's no just like
other folk, puir fallow ; but he's no sae silly as folk tak him
for. — But, to be sure, how can we do eneugli for his Honour,
when we and ours have lived on his ground this twa hundred
years; and when he keepit my puir Jamie at school and
college, and even at the Ha'-house, till he gaed to a better
place ; and when he saved me frae being ta'en to Perth as a
witch — Lord forgi'e them that would touch sic a puir silly auld
body ! — and has maintained puir Davie at heck and manger
maist feck o' his life?"

Waverley at length found an opportunity to interrupt Janet's
Qarrative, by an inquiry after Miss Bradwardine.

" She's weel and safe, thank God? at the Duchran," answered
the Baron. "The laird's distantly related to us, and more
nearly to my chaplain, Mr. Kubrick; and, though he be of
Whig principles, yet he's not forgetful of auld friendship at
this time. The Bailie's doing what he can to save something
out of the wreck for puir Rose ; but I doubt, I doubt, I shall
never see her again, for I maun lay my banes in some far
country."

" Hout na, your Honour," said old Janet ; " ye were just as
ill afi' in the feifteen, and got the bonnie baronie back, an a'. —
And now the eggs is ready, and the muir-cock's brandered, and
there's ilk ane a trencher and some saut, and the heel o' the
white loaf that cam frae the Bailie's ; and there's plenty o'
brandy in the greybeard that Luckie Maclearie sent doun ; and
winna ye be suppered like princes ?"

" I wish one Prince, at least, of our acquaintance, may be no
worse off," said the Baron to Waverley, who joined him in
cordial hopes for the safety of the unfortunate Chevalier.

They then began to talk of their future prospects. The
Baron's plan was very simple. It was, to escape to France,
where, by the interest of his old friends, he hoped to get some
military employment, of which he still conceived himself
capable. He invited Waverley to go with him, a proposal in

400 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

which he acquiesced, providing the interest of Colonel Talbot
should fail in procuring his pardon. Tacitly he hoped the
Baron would sanction his addresses to Rose, and give him a
right to assist him in his exile ; but he forbore to speak on
this subject until his own fate should be decided. They then
talked of Glennaquoich, for whom the Baron expressed great
anxiety, although, he observed, he was " the very Achilles of
Horatius Flaccus, —

Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer.

Which," he continued, " has been thus rendered (vernacularly)
by Struan Robertson : —

A fiery etter-cap, a fractious chiel,

As het as ginger, and as stieve as steel."

Flora had a large and unqualified share of the good old man's
sympathy.

It was now wearing late. Old Janet got into some kind of
kennel behind the hallan. Davie had been long asleep and
snoring between Ban and Buscar. These dogs had followed
him to the hut after the mansion-house was deserted, and there
constantly resided; and their ferocity, with the old woman's
reputation of being a witch, contributed a good deal to keep
visitors from the glen. With this view. Bailie Macwheeble
provided Janet underhand with meal for their maintenance,
and also with little articles of luxury for their patron's use, in
supplying which much precaution was necessarily used. After
some compliments, the Baron occupied his usual couch, and
Waverley reclined in an easy chair of tattered velvet, which
had once garnished the state bed-room of TuUy-Veolan (for
the furniture of this mansion was now scattered through all the
cottages in the vicinity), and went to sleep as comfortably as if
he had been in a bed of down.

WAVERLEY. 401

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIFTH.

MORE EXPLANATION.

With the first dawn of day, old Janet was scuttling about the
house to wake the Baron, who usually slept sound and heavily.

" I must go back," he said to Waverley, " to my cove : will
you walk down the glen wi' meV

They went out together, and followed a narrow and entangled
foot-path, which the occasional passage of anglers, or wood-
cutters, had traced by the side of the stream. On their way,
the Baron explained to Waverley, that he would be under no
danger in remaining a day or two at TuUy-Veolan, and even
in being seen walking about, if he used the precaution of
pretending that he was looking at the estate as agent or surveyor
for an English gentleman, who designed to be purchaser. With
this view, he recommended to him to visit the Bailie, who still
lived at the factor's house, called Little Veolan, about a mile
from the village, though he was to remove at next term.
Stanley's passport would be an answer to the officer who com-
manded the military ; and as to any of the coimtry people who
might recognise Waverley, the Baron assiu-ed him that he was
in no danger of being betrayed by them,

" I believe," said the old man, " half the people of the barony
know that their poor auld laird is somewhere hereabout ; for I
see they do not suffer a single bairn to come here a bird-nesting
- — a practice whilk, when I was in full possession of my power
as baron, I was imable totally to inhibit. Nay, I often find bits
of things in my way, that the poor bodies, God help them !
leave there, because they think they may be useful to me.
I hope they will get a wiser master, and as kind a one as I was."

A natural sigh closed the sentence ; but the quiet equanimity
with which the Baron endured his misfortunes, had something in
it venerable, and even sublime. There was no fruitless repining,
no turbid melancholy ; he bore his lot, and the hardships which
it involved, with a good-humoured, though serious composure,
and used no violent language against the prevailing party.

" I did what I thought my duty," said the good old man,
" and questionless they are doing what they think theirs. It
grieves me sometimes to look upon these blackened walls of the
VOL. I. 2d

402 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

house of my ancestors ; but doubtless officers cannot always
keep the soldier's hand from depredation and spuilzie ; and
Gustavus Adolphus himself, as ye may read in Colonel Munro
his Expedition with the worthy Scotch regiment called Mackay'a
regiment, did often permit it. — Indeed I have mj^self seen as
sad sights as TuUy-Veolan now is, when I served with the
Mareschal Duke of Berwick. To be sure, we may say with
Virgilius Maro, Fuimus Troes — and there's the end of an auld
sang. But houses and families and men have a' stood lang
eneugh when they have stood till they fall with honour ; and
now I hae gotten a house that is not unlike a domus ultima "
— they were now standing below a steep rock. "We poor
Jacobites," continued the Baron, looking up, " are now like the
conies in Holy Scripture (which the great traveller Pocoke
calleth Jerboa), a feeble people, that make our abode in the
rocks. So, fare you well, my good lad, till we meet at Janet's
in the even ; for I must get into my Patmos, which is no easy
matter for my auld stiff limbs."

With that he began to ascend the rock, striding, with the
help of his hands, from one precarious footstep to another, till
he got about half-way up, where two or three bushes concealed
the mouth of a hole, resembling an oven, into which the Baron
insinuated, first his head and shoulders, and then, by slow
gradation, the rest of his long body ; his legs and feet finally
disappearing, coiled up like a huge snake entering his retreat,
or a long pedigree introduced with care and difficulty into the
narrow pigeon-hole of an old cabinet. Waverley had the
curiosity to clamber up and look in upon him in his den, as the
lurking-place might well be termed. Upon the whole, he
looked not unlike that ingenious puzzle, called a reel in a bottle,
the marvel of children (and of some grown people too, myself
for one), who can neither comprehend the mystery how it has
got in, or how it is to be taken out. The cave was very narrow,
too low in the roof to admit of his standing, or almost of his
sitting up, though he made some awkward attempts at the
latter posture. His sole amusement was the perusal of his old
friend Titus Livius, varied by occasionally scratching Latin
proverbs and texts of Scripture with his knife on the roof and
walls of his fortalice, which were of sandstone. As the cave
was dry, and filled with clean straw and withered fern, "it
made," as he said, coiling himself up with an air of snugnesE

WAVERLEY. 403

and comfort which contrasted strangely with his situation,
" unless when the wind was due north, a very passable gtte for
an old soldier." Neither, as he observed, was he without sentries
for the purpose of reconnoitring. Davie and his mother were
constantly on the watch, to discover and avert danger ; and it
was singular what instances of address seemed dictated by the
instinctive attachment of the poor simpleton, when his patron's
safety was concerned.

With Janet, Edward now sought an interview. He had
recognised her at first sight as the old woman who had nursed him
during his sickness after his delivery from Gifted Gilfillan. The
hut, also, though a little repaired, and somewhat better furnished,
was certainly the place of his confinement ; and he now recol-
lected on the common moor of TuUy-Veolan the trunk of a
large decayed tree, called the ti-y sting-tree, which he had no
doubt was the same at which the Highlanders rendezvoused
on that memorable night. All this he had combined in his
imagination the night before ; but reasons, which may probably
occur to the reader, prevented him from catechizing Janet in
the presence of the Baron.

He now commenced the task in good earnest ; and the first
question was. Who was the young lady that visited the hut
during his illness ? Janet paused for a little ; and then observed,
that to keep the secret now, would neither do good nor ill to
anybody, " It was just a leddy that hasna her equal in the
world — Miss Eose Bradwardine."

" Then Miss Rose was probably also the author of my deli-
verance," inferred Waverley, delighted at the confirmation of
an idea which local circumstances had already induced him to
entertain.

" I wot weel, Mr. Wauverley, and that was she e'en ; but
sair, sair angry and affronted wad she hae been, puir thing, if
she had thought ye had been ever to ken a word about the
matter ; for she gar'd me speak aye Gaelic when ye was in
hearing, to mak ye trow we were in the Hielands. I can
speak it well eneugh, for my mother was a Hieland woman."

A few more questions now brought out the whole mystery
respecting Waverley 's deliverance from the bondage in which
he left Cairnvreckan. Never did music sound sweeter to an
amateur, than the drowsy tautology, with which old Janet
detailed every circumstance, thrilled upon the ears of Waverley

404 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

But my reader is not a lover, and I must spare his patience,
attempting to condense within reasonable compass the narrative
which old J anet spread through a harangue of nearly two hours.

When Waverley communicated to Fergus the letter he had
received from Rose Bradwardine, by Davie Gellatley, giving an
account of Tully-Veolan being occupied by a small party of
soldiers, that circumstance had struck upon the busy and active
mind of the Chieftain. Eager to distress and narrow the posts
of the enemy, desirous to prevent their establishing a garrison
so near him, and willing also to oblige the Baron, — for he
often had the idea of marriage with Rose floating through his
brain, — he resolved to send some of his people to drive out the
red-coats, and to bring Rose to Glennaquoich. But just as he
had ordered Evan with a small party on this duty, the news of
Cope's having marched into the Highlands to meet and disperse
the forces of the Chevalier ere they came to a head, obliged him
to join the standard with his whole forces.

He sent to order Donald Bean to attend him; but that
cautious freebooter, who well understood the value of a separate
command, instead of joining, sent various apologies which the
pressure of the times compelled Fergus to admit as current,
though not without the internal resolution of being revenged
on him for his procrastination, time and place convenient.
However, as he coidd not amend the matter, he issued orders
to Donald to descend into the Low Country, drive the soldiers
from Tully-Veolan, and, paying all respect to the mansion of
the Baron, to take his abode somewhere near it, for protection
of his daughter and family, and to harass and drive away any
of the armed volunteers, or small parties of military, which he
might find moving about the vicinity.

As this charge formed a sort of roving commission, which
Donald proposed to interpret in the way most advantageous to
himself, as he was relieved from the immediate terrors of
Fergus, and as he had, from former secret services, some
interest in the councils of the Chevalier, he resolved to make
hay while the sun shone. He achieved without difficulty, the
task of driving the soldiers from Tully-Veolan ; but although
he did not venture to encroach upon the interior of the family,
or to disturb Miss Rose, being unwilling to make himself a
powerful enemy in the Chevalier's army,

For well he knew the Baron's wrath was deadly ;

WAVERLEY. 405

yet he set about to raise contributions and exactions upon the
tenantry, and otherwise to tium the war to his omti advantage.
Meanwhile he mounted the wliite cockade, and waited upon
Rose with a pretext of great devotion for the service in which
her fatlier was engaged, and many apologies for the freedom he
must necessarily use for the support of his people. It was at
this moment that Rose learned, by open-mouthed fame, with
all sorts of exaggeration, that Waverley had killed the smith
of Cairn vreckan, in an attempt to arrest him ; had been cast
into a dungeon by Major Melville of Cairn vreckan, and was to
be executed by martial law within three days. In the agony
which these tidings excited, she proposed to Donald Bean the
rescue of the prisoner. It was the very sort of service which
lie was desirous to undertake, judging it might constitute a
merit of such a nature as would make amends for any pecca-
dilloes which he might be guilty of in the country. He had
tlie art, however, pleading all the while duty and discipline, to
liold off, until poor Rose, in the extremity of her distress,
offered to bribe him to the enterprise with some valuable jewels
which had been her mother's.

Donald Bean, who had served in France, knew, and perhaps
over-estimated the value of these trinkets. But he also per-
ceived Rose's apprehensions of its being discovered that she had
parted with her jewels for Waverley's liberation. Resolved this
scruple should not part him and the treasure, he voluntarily
offered to take an oath that he would never mention Miss
Rose's share in the transaction ; and foreseeing convenience in
keeping the oath, and no probable advantage in breaking it, he
took the engagement — in order, as he told his lieutenant, to
deal handsomely by the young lady — in the only form and
mode which, by a mental paction with himself, he considered
as binding — he swore secrecy upon his drawn dirk. He was the
more especially moved to this act of good faith by some atten-
tions that Miss Bradwardine showed to his daughter Alice,
which, while they gained the heart of the mountain damsel,
highly gratified the pride of her father. Alice, who could now
speak a little English, was very communicative in return for
Rose's kindness, readily confided to her the whole papers respect-
ing the intrigue with Gardiner's regiment, of which she was the
depositaiy, and as readily undertook, at her instance, to restore
them to Waverley without her father's knowledge. " For they

406 WAVERLEY NOVELS

may oblige the bonnie young lady and the handsome young
gentleman," said Alice, "and what use has my father for a
wheen bits o' scarted paper?"

The reader is aware that she took an opportunity of executing
this purpose on the eve of Waverley's leaving the glen.

How Donald executed his enterprise, the reader is aware.
But the expulsion of the military from Tully-Veolan had given
alarm, and, while he was lying in wait for Gilfillan, a strong
party, such as Donald did not care to face, was sent to drive
back the insurgents in their turn, to encamp there, and to pro-
tect the coimtry. The officer, a gentleman and a disciplinarian,
neither intruded himself on Miss Bradwardine, whose unpro-
tected situation he respected, nor permitted his soldiers to
commit any breach of discipline. He formed a little camp,
upon an eminence near the house of Tully-Veolan, and placed
proper guards at the passes in the vicinity. This unwelcome
news reached Donald Bean Lean as he was returning to Tully-
Veolan. Determined, however, to obtain the guerdon of his
labour, he resolved, since approach to Tully-Veolan was impos-
sible, to deposit his prisoner in Janet's cottage — a place the
very existence of which could hardly have been suspected even
by those who had long lived in the vicinity, imless they had
been guided thither, and which was utterly unknown to
Waverley himself. This ejffected, he claimed and received his
reward. Waverley's illness was an event which deranged all
their calculations. Donald was obliged to leave the neighbour-
hood with his people, and to seek more free course for his
adventures elsewhere. At Eose's earnest entreaty, he left an
old man, a herbalist, who was supposed to understand a little
of medicine, to attend Waverley during his illness.

In the meanwhile, new and fearful doubts started in Rose's
mind. They were suggested by old Janet, who insisted, that
a reward having been offered for the apprehension of Waverley,
and his own personal effects being so valuable, there was no
saying to what breach of faith Donald might be tempted. In
an agony of grief and terror. Rose took the daring resolution of
explaining to the Prince himself the danger in which Mr.
Waverley stood, judging that, both as a politician, and a man
of honour and humanity, Charles Edward would interest him-
self to prevent his falling into the hands of the opposite party.
This letter she at first thought of sending anonymously, but

I

WAVEKLEY. 407

naturally feared it would not, in that case, be credited. She
therefore subscribed her name, though ^ith reluctance and
terror, and consigned it in charge to a young man, who, at
leaving his farm to join the Chevalier's army, made it his
petition to her to have some sort of credentials to the Adven-
turer, from whom he hoped to obtain a commission.

The letter reached Charles Edward on his descent to the
Lowlands, and, aware of the political importance of having it
supposed that he was in correspondence with the English
Jacobites, he caused the most positive orders to be transmitted
to Donald Bean Lean, to transmit Waverley, safe and iminjured
in person or effects, to the governor of Doune Castle. The
freebooter durst not disobey, for the army of the Prince was
now so near him that punishment might have followed; besides,
he was a politician as well as a robber, and was unwilling to
cancel the interest created through former secret services, by
being refractory on this occasion. He therefore made a virtue
of necessity, and transmitted orders to his lieuienant to convey
Edward to Doune, which was safely accomplished in the mode
mentioned in a former chapter. The governor of Doune was
directed to send him to Edinburgh as a prisoner, because the
Prince was apprehensive that Waverley, if set at liberty, might
have resumed his piu'pose of returning to England, without
affording him an opportunity of a personal interview. In this,
indeed he acted by the advice of the Chieftain of Glennaquoich,
with whom it may be remembered the Chevalier communicated
upon the mode of disposing of Edward, though without telling
him how he came to learn the place of his confinement.

This, indeed, Charles Edward considered as a lady's secret;
for although Rose's letter was couched in the most cautious and
general terms, and professed to be written merely from motives
of humanity, and zeal for the Prince's service, yet she expressed
so anxious a wish that she should not be known to have inter-
fered, that the Chevalier was induced to suspect the deep
interest which she took in Waverley 's safety. This coiyecture,
which was well founded, led, however, to false inferences. For
the emotion which Edward displayed on approaching Flora and
Rose at the ball of Holyrood, was placed by the Chevalier to
the account of the latter ; and he concluded that the Baron's
views about the settlement of his property, or some such
obstacle, thwarted their mutual inclinations, (yommon fame.

408 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

it is tnie, frequently gave Waverley to Miss Mac-Ivor ; but the
Prince knew that common fame is very prodigal in such gifts ;
and, watching attentively the behaviour of the ladies towards
Waverley, he had no doubt that the young Englishman had
no interest with Flora, and was beloved by Rose Bradwardine.
Desirous to bind Waverley to his service, and wishing also to
do a kind and friendly action, the Prince next assailed the
Baron on the subject of settling his estate upon his daughter.
Mr. Bradwai'dine acquiesced; but the consequence was, that
Fergus was immediately induced to prefer his double suit for
a wife and an earldom, which the prince rejected in the manner
we have seen. The Chevalier, constantly engaged in his own
multiplied affairs, had not hitherto sought any explanation with
AVaverley, though often meaning to do so. But after Fergus's
declaration, he saw the necessity of appearing neutral between
the rivals, devoutly hoping that the matter, which now seemed
fraught with the seeds of strife, might be permitted to lie over
till the termination of the expedition. When on the march to
Derby, Fergus, being questioned concerning his quarrel with
Waverley, alleged as the cause, that Edward was desirous of
retracting the suit he made to his sister, the Chevalier plainly
told him, that he had himself observed Miss Mac-Ivor's beha-
viour to Waverley, and that he was cbnvinced that Fergus was
under the influence of a mistake in judging of Waverley's
conduct, who, he had every reason to believe, was engaged to
Miss Bradwardine. The quarrel which ensued between Edward
and the chieftain is, I hope, still in the remembrance of the
reader. These circumstances will serve to explain such points
of our narrative as, according to the custom of story-tellers, we
deemed it fit to leave unexplained, for the purpose of exciting
the reader's curiosity.

When Janet had once finished the leading facts of this
narrative, Waverley was easily enabled to apply the clew which
they afforded, to other mazes of the labyrinth in which he had
been engaged. To Rose Bradwardine, then, he owed the life
whicli he now thought he could willingly have laid down tc
serve her. A little reflection convinced him, however, that to
live for her sake was more coiivenient and agreeable, and that,
being possessed of independence, she might share it with him
either in foreign countries or in his own. The pleasure of being
allied to a man of the Baron's high worth, and who was so

WAVERLEY. 409

much valued by his uncle Sir Everard, was also an agreeable
consideration, had anything been wanting to recommend the
match. His absurdities, which had appeared grotesquely ludi-
crous duiing his prosperity, seemed, in the sunset of his fortune,
to be harmonised and assimilated with the noble features of his
character, so as to add peculiarity without exciting ridicule.
His mind occupied with such projects of future happiness,
Edward sought Little Veolan, the habitation of Mr. Duncan
Macwheeble.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIXTH.

Now is Cupid like a child of conscience — he makes restitution.

Shakspeare.

Mil. Duncan Macwheeble, no longer commissary or Bailie,
though still enjoying the empty name of the latter dignity, had
escaped proscription by an early secession from the insiurgent
party, and by his insignificance.

Edward found him in his office, immersed among papers and
accounts. Before him was a large bicker of oatmeal-porridge,
and at the side thereof, a horn-spoon and a bottle of two-penny.
Eagerly running his eye over a voluminous law-paper, he from
time to time shovelled an immense spoonful of these nutritive
viands into his capacious mouth. A pot-bellied Dutch bottle
of brandy which stood by, intimated either that this honest
limb of the law had taken his morning already, or that he
meant to season his porridge with such digestive ; or perhaps
both circumstances might reasonably be inferred. His night-
cap and morning-gown had whilome been of tartan, but, equally
cautious and frugal, the honest Bailie had got them dyed black,
lest their original ill-omened colour might remind his visitors
of his unlucky excursion to Derby. To sum up the picture, his
face was daubed with snuft' up to the eyes, and his fingers with
ink up to the knuckles. He looked dubiously at Waverley as
he approached the little green rail which fenced his desk and
stool from the approach of the vulgar. Nothing could give the
Bailie more annoyance than the idea of his acquaintance being
claimed by any of the unfortunate gentlemen who were now so
much more likely to need assistance than to afford profit. But

410 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

this was the rich young Englishman — who knew what might
be his situation 1 — he was the Baron's friend too — what was to
be done ?

While these reflections gave an air of absurd perplexity to
the poor man's visage, Waverley, reflecting on the communica-
tion he was about to make to him, of a nature so ridiculously
contrasted with the appearance of the individual, could not
help bursting out a-laughing, as he checked the propensity to
exclaim with Syphax —

Cato's a proper person to intrust
A love-tale with.

As Mr. Macwheeble had no idea of any pei-son laughing
heartily who was either encu'cled by peril or oppressed by
poverty, the hilarity of Edward's countenance greatly relieved
the embarrassment of his own, and, giving him a tolerably
hearty welcome to Little Veolan, he asked what he would choose
for breakfast. His visitor had, in the first place, something for
his private ear, and begged leave to bolt the door. Duncan by
no means liked this precaution, which savoured of danger to be
apprehended ; but he could not now draw back.

Convinced he might trust this man, as he could make it his
interest to be faithful, Edward communicated his present
situation and future schemes to Macwheeble. The wily agent
listened with apprehension when he found Waverley was still
in a state of proscription — ^was somewhat comforted by learning
that he had a passport — ^rubbed his hands with glee when he
mentioned the amount of his present fortune — opened huge
eyes when he heard the brilliancy of his futui'e expectations ;
but when he expressed his intention to share them with Miss
Rose Bradwardine, ecstasy had almost deprived the honest man
of his senses. The Bailie started from his three-footed stool
like the Pythoness from her tripod ; flung his best wig out of
the window, because the block on which it was placed stood in
the way of his career ; chucked his cap to the ceiling, caught
it as it fell ; whistled Tullochgorum ; danced a Highland fling
with inimitable grace and agility; and then threw himself
exhausted into a chair, exclaiming, "Lady Wauverley ! — ten
thousand a-year, the least penny ! — Lord preserve my poor
understanding !" —

"Amen, with all my heart," said Waverley; — "but now,

I

WAVERLEY. 411

Mr. Macwheeble, let us proceed to business." This word had a
somewhat sedative effect, but the Bailie's head, as he expressed
himself, was still " in the bees." He mended his pen, however,
marked half-a-dozen sheets of paper with an ample marginal
fold, whipped down Dallas of St. Martin's Styles from a shelf,
where that venerable work roosted, with Stair's Institutions,
Dirleton's Doubts, Balfour's Practiques, and a parcel of old
account-books — opened the volume at the article Contract of
Marriage, and prepared to make what he caUed a "sma' minute,
to prevent parties frae resiling^."

With some difficulty, Waverley made him comprehend that he
was going a little too fast. He explained to him that he should
want his assistance, in the first place, to make his residence
safe for the time, by writing to the officer at Tully-Veolan,
that Mr. Stanley, an English gentleman, nearly related to
Colonel Talbot, was upon a visit of business at Mr. Macwheeble's
and, knowing the state of the country, had sent his passport for
Captain Foster's inspection. This produced a polite answer
from the officer, with an invitation to Mr. Stanley to dine with
him, which was declined (as may easily be supposed), under
pretence of business.

Waverley's next request was, that Mr. Macwheeble would

despatch a man and horse to , the post town, at which

Colonel Talbot was to address him, with directions to wait there
imtil the post shoidd bring a letter for Mr. Stanley, and then
to forward it to Little Veolan with aU speed. In a moment,
the Bailie was in search of his apprentice (or servitor, as he was
called Sixty Years since), Jock Scriever, and in not much greater
space of time Jock was on the back of the white pony.

" Tak care ye guide him weel, sir, for he's aye been short in
the wind since — ahem — Lord be gude to me ! (in a low voice) 1
was gaun to come out wi' — since I rode whip and spur to fetch
the Chevalier to redd Mr. Wauverley and Vich Ian Vohr ; and
an uncanny coup I gat for my pains. — Lord forgie your honour !
I might hae broken my neck — but troth it was in a venture,
mae ways nor ane ; but this maks amends for a'. Lady Wauv-
erley ! — ten thousand a year ! — Lord be gude unto me ! "

" But you forget, Mr. Macwheeble, we want the Baron's con-
sent— the lady's "

" Never fear, I'se be caution for them — I'se gie you my
personal waiTandice — ten thousand a-year ! it dings Bahna-

4l5i WAVERLEY NOVELS.

wrhapple out and out — a year's rent's worth a' Balmawhapple,
fee and life-rent ! Lord make us thankful !"

To turn the current of his feelings, Edward inquired if he
had heard anything lately of the Chieftain of Glennaquoich 1

" Not one word," answered Macwheeble, " but that he was
still in Carlisle Castle, and was soon to be panelled for his
life. I dinna wish the young gentleman ill," he said, " but I
hope that they that hae got him will keep him, and no let him
back to this Hieland border to plague us wi' black-mail, and
a' manner o' violent, wrongous, and masterfu' oppression and
spoliation, both by himself and others of his causing, sending,
and hounding out : — and he couldna tak care o' the siller when
he had gotten it neither, but flung it a' into yon idle quean's lap
at Edinburgh — but light come light gane. For my part, I never
wish to see a kilt in the country again, nor a red-coat, nor a
g-un, for that matter, unless it were to shoot a paitrick : — they're
a' tarr'd wi' ae stick. And when they have done ye wrang,
even when ye hae gotten decreet of spulzie, oppression, and
violent profits against them, what better are ye ?— they hae no
a plack to pay ye ; ye need never extract it."

With such discourse, and the intervening topics of business,
the time passed until dinner, Macwheeble meanwhile promising
to devise some mode of introducing Edward at the Duchran,
where Kose at present resided, without risk of danger or
suspicion ; which seemed no very easy task, since the laird was
a very zealous friend to Government. — The poultry-yard had
been laid under requisition and cockyleeky and Scotch collops
soon reeked in the Bailie's little parlour. The landlord's cork-
screw was just introduced into the muzzle of a pint-bottle of
claret (cribbed possibly from the cellars of TuUy-Veolan), when
the sight of the grey pony, passing the window at full trot,
induced the Bailie, but with due precaution, to place it aside
for the moment. Enter Jock Scriever with a packet for Mr.
Stanley : it is Colonel Talbot's seal ; and Edward's fingers
tremble as he undoes it. Two official papers, folded, signed,
and sealed in all formality, drop out. They were hastily picked
up by the Bailie, who had a natural respect for everything
resembling a deed, and, glancing slyly on their titles, his eyes,
or rather spectacles, are greeted with " Protection by his Royal
Highness to the person of Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Esq.
of that ilk, commonly called Baron of Bradwardine, forfeited

WAVERLEY. 413

for his accession to the late rebellion." The other proves to be
a protection of the same tenor in favour of Edward Waverley^
Esq. Colonel Talbot's letter was in these words : —

" My Dear Edward,
" I am just arrived here, and yet I have finished my business ;
it has cost me some trouble though, as you shall hear. I waited
upon his Royal Highness immediately on my arrival, and found
him in no very good humour for my purpose. Three or four
Scotch gentlemen were just leaving his levee. After he had
expressed himself to me very courteously ; ' Woidd you think
it,' he said, ' Talbot 1 here have been half-a-dozen of the most
respectable gentlemen, and best friends to Government north
of the Forth, — Major Melville of Caimvreckan, Kubrick of
Duchran, and others, — who have fairly wrung from me, by
their do^vnright importimity, a present protection and the
promise of a future pardon, for that stubborn old rebel whom
they call Baron of Bradwardine. They allege that his high
personal character, and the clemency which he showed to such
of our people as fell into the rebel's hands, should weigh in his
favour ; especially as the loss of his estate is likely to be a
severe enough punishment. Kubrick has undertaken to keep
him at his owti house till things are settled in the country ; but
it's a little hard to be forced in a manner to pardon such a mortal
enemy to the House of Brunswick.' This was no favourable
moment for opening my business; — however, I said I was
rejoiced to learn that his Royal Highness was in the course of
granting such requests, as it emboldened me to present one of
the like nature in my own name. He was very angry, but I
persisted ; — I mentioned the uniform support of our three votes
in the house, touched modestly on services abroad, though
valuable only in his Royal Highness's having been pleased kindly
to accept them, and founded pretty strongly on his own expres-
sions of friendship and good-will. He was embarrassed, but
obstinate. I hinted the policy of detaching, on all future
occasions, the heir of such a fortune as your uncle's from the
machinations of the disaffected. But I made no impression.
I mentioned the obligation which I lay under to Sir Everard,
and to you personally, and claimed as the sole reward of my
services, that he would be pleased to afford me the means of
evincing my gratitude. I perceived that he stiU meditated a

4U WAVERLEY NOVELS.

refusal, and taking my commission from my pocket, I said (as
a last resource), that as his Royal Highness did not, under
these pressing circumstances, think me worthy of a favour
which he had not scrupled to grant to other gentlemen, whose
services I could hardly judge more important than my own, 1
must beg leave to deposit, with all humility, my commission in
his Royal Highness's hands, and to retire from the service. He
was not prepared for this ; — he told me to take up my com-
mission; said some handsome things of my services, and
granted my request. You are therefore once more a free man,
and I have promised for you that you will be a good boy in
future, and remember what you owe to the lenity of Govern-
ment. Thus you see my prince can be as generous as yours.
I do not pretend, indeed, that he confers a favour with all the
foreign graces and compliments of your Chevalier errant ; but
ho has a plain English manner, and the evident reluctance with
which he grants yoiu- request, indicates the sacrifice which he
makes of his own inclination to your wishes. My friend, the
adjutant-general, has procured me a duplicate of the Baron's
protection (the original being in Major Melville's possession),
which I send to you, as I know that if you can find him you
will have pleasure in being the first to commimicate the joyful
intelligence. He will of course repair to the Duchran without
loss of time, there to ride quarantine for a few weeks. As for
you, I give you leave to escort him thither, and to stay a week
there, as I understand a certain fair lady is in that quarter.
And I have the pleasure to tell you, that whatever progress you
can make in her good graces will be highly agreeable to Sir
Everard and Mrs. Rachel, who will never believe your views
and prospects settled, and the three ermines passant in actual
safety, until you present them with a Mrs. Edward Waverley.
Now, certain love-afiairs of my own — a good many years since
— interrupted some measures which were then proposed in
favour' of the three ermines passant ; so I am bound in honour
to make them amends. Therefore make good use of your time,
for when your week is expired, it will be necessary that you go
to London to plead your pardon in the law courts.

" Ever, dear Waverley, yours most truly,

" Philip TALBaT,"

WAVERLEY. 415

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVENTH.

Happy's the wooing
That's not long a doing.

When the first rapturous sensation occasioned by these excel
lent tidings had somewhat subsided, Edward proposed instantly
to go down to the glen to acquaint the Baron with their import.
But the cautious Bailie justly observed, that if the Baron were
to appear instantly in public, the tenantry and villagers might
become riotous in expressing their joy, and give offence to " the
powers that be," a sort of persons for whom the Bailie always
had unlimited respect. He therefore proposed that Mr. Waver-
ley should go to Janet Gellatley's, and bring the Baron up
under cloud of night to Little Veolan, where he might once
more enjoy the luxury of a good bed. In the meanwhile, he
said, he himself would go to Captain Foster, and show him the
Baron's protection, and obtain his countenance for harbouring
him that night, — and he would have horses ready on the morrow
to set him on his way to the Duchran along with Mr. Stanley,
" whilk denomination, I apprehend, your honour will for the
present retain," said the Bailie.

" Certainly, Mr. Macwheeble ; but will you not go down to
the glen yourself in the evening to meet your patron*?"

" That I wad wi' a' my heart ; and mickle obliged to your
honour for putting me in mind o' my bounden duty. But it
will be past simset afore I get back frae the Captain's, and
at these unsonsy hours the glen has a bad name — there's some-
thing no that canny about auld Janet Gellatley. The Laird
he'll no believe thae things, but he was aye ower rash and
venturesome — and feared neither man nor deevil — and sae's
seen o't. But right sure am I Sir George Mackenyie says, that
no divine can doubt there are witches, since the Bible says thou
shalt not suffer them to live ; and that no lawyer in Scotland
can doubt it, since it is punishable with death by our law. So
there's baith law and gospel for it. An his honour winna
believe the Leviticus, he might aye believe the Statute-book j
but he may tak his ain way o't- — it's a' ane to Duncan Mac-
wheeble. However, I shall send to ask up auld Janet this e'en ;
it's best no to lightly them that have that character — and we'll

416 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

want Davie to turn the spit, for I'll gar Eppie put down a fat
goose to the fire for your honours to your supper."

When it was near sunset, Waverley hastened to the hut;
and he could not but allow that superstition had chosen no im-
proper locality, or unfit object, for the foundation of her fantastic
terrors. It resembled exactly the description of Spenser :

There, in a gloomy hollow glen, she found

A little cottage built of sticks and reeds,
In homely wise, and wall'd with sods around.

In which a witch did dwell in loathly weeds,
And wilful want, all careless of her needs ;

So choosing solitary to abide
Far from all neighbours, that her devilish deeds,

And hellish arts, from people she might hide.
And hurt far off, unknown, whomsoever she espied.

He entered the cottage with these verses in his memory.
Poor old Janet, bent double with age, and bleared with peat-
smoke, was tottering about the hut with a birch broom, mutter-
ing to herself as she endeavoured to make her hearth and floor
a little clean for the reception of her expected guests. Waver-
ley's step made her start, look up, and fall a-trembling, so much
had her nerves been on the rack for her patron's safety. With
difficulty Waverley made her comprehend that the Baron was
now safe from personal danger ; and when her mind had ad-
mitted that joyful news, it was equally hard to make her believe
that he was not to enter agam upon possession of his estate.
" It behoved to be," she said, " he wad get it back again ; nae-
body wad be sae gripple as to tak his gear after they had gi'en
him a pardon ; and for that Inch-Grabbit, I could whiles wish
mysell a witch for his sake, if I werena feared the Enemy wad
tak me at my word." Waverley then gave her some money,
and promised that her fidelity should be rewarded. '' How can
I be rewarded, sir, sae weel, as just to see my auld maister and
Miss Rose come back and bruik their ain]"

Waverley now took leave of Janet, and soon stood beneath
the Baron's Patmos. At a low whistle, he observed the veteran
peeping out to reconnoitre, like an old badger with his head out
of his hole. " Ye hae come rather early, my good lad," said he,
descending; "I question if the red-coats hae beat the tattoo
yet, and we're not safe till then."

" Good news cannot be told too soon," said Waverley ; and
with infinite joy communicated to him the happy tidings.

WAVERLKY. 417

The old man stood for a moment in silent devotion, then
exclaimed, " Praise be to God ! — I shall see my bairu again."

" And never, I hope, to part with her more," said Waverley.

" I trust in God, not, unless it be to win the means of sup-
porting her ; for my things are but in a bruckle state ; — but
what signifies warld's gear?"

" And if," said "Waverley, modestly, " there were a situation
in life which would put Miss Bradwardine beyond the uncer-
tainty of fortime, and in the rank to which she was bom, would
you object to it, my dear Baron, because it would make one of
your friends the happiest man in the world?" The Baron
turned, and looked at him with great earnestness. " Yes," con-
tinued Edward, " I shall not consider my sentence of banishment
as repealed, unless you will give me permission to accompany
you to the Duchran, and "

The Baron seemed collecting all his dignity to make a suitable
reply to what, at another time, he would have treated as the
propounding a treaty of alliance between the houses of Brad-
wardine and Waverley. But his efforts were in vain ; the father
was too mighty for the Baron ; the pride of birth and rank were
swept away : in the joyful surprise, a slight convulsion passed
rapidly over his features, as he gave way to the feelings of
nature, threw his arms around Waverley's neck, and sobbed
out, — " My son ! my son ! — if I had been to search the world, I
would have made my choice here." Edward returned the
embrace with great sympathy of feeling, and for a little while
they both kept silence. At length it was broken by Edward.
" But Miss Bradwardme V

" She had never a will but her old father's ; besides, you are
a likely youth, of honest principles, and high birth ; no, she
never had any other will than mine, and in my proudest days
I could not have wished a mair eligible espousal for her than
the nephew of my excellent old friend, Sir Everard. — But I
hope, young man, ye deal na i*aslily in this matter? I hope
ye hae secured the approbation of yom- ain friends and aJlies.
particularly of your uncle, who is in loco parentis ? All 1 we
maun tak heed o' that." JEdward assured him that Sir Everard
would think himself highly honoured in the flattering reception
his proposal had met with, and that it had his entire appro-
bation ; in evidence of which, he put Colonel Talbot's letter
into the Baron's hand. The Baron read it with great attention.
VOL. L 2 b

418 WAVEllLEY NOVELS.

'• Sir Everard," he said, *' always despised wealth in comparison
of honour and birth ; and indeed he had no occasion to court
the Diva Pecunia. Yet I now wish, since this Malcolm turns
out such a parricide, for I can call him no better, as to think
of alienating the family inheritance — I now wish (his eyes fixed
on a part of the roof which was visible above the trees) that
I could have left Eose the auld hurley-house, and the riggs
belanging to it. — And yet," said he, resmning more cheerfully,
" it's maybe as weel as it is ; for, as Baron of Bradwardine, I
might have thought it my duty to insist upon certain com-
pliances respecting name and bearings, whilk now, as a landless
laird wi' a tocherless daughter, no one can blame me for
departing from."

"Now, Heaven be praised!" thought Edward, "that Sir
Everard does not hear these scruples ! — the three ermines
passant and rampant bear would certainly have gone together
by the ears." He then, with all the ardour of a young lover,
assured the Baron, that he sought for his happiness only in
Hose's heart and hand, and thought himself as happy in her
father's simple approbation, as if he had settled an earldom
upon his daughter.

They now reached Little Veolan. The goose was smoking
on the table, and the Bailie brandished his knife and fork. A
joyous greeting took place between him and his patron. The
kitchen, too, had its company. Auld Janet was established at
the ingle-nook; Davie had turned the spit to his immortal
honour; and even Ban and Buscar, in the liberality of Mac-
wheeble's joy, had been stuffed to the throat with food, and
now lay snoring on the floor.

The next day conducted the Baron and his young friend to
the Duchran, where the former was expected, in consequence of
the success of the nearly unanimous application of the Scottish
friends of Government in his favour. This had been so general
and so powerful that it was almost thought his estate might
have been saved, had it not passed into the rapacious hands of
his unworthy kinsman, whose right, arising out of the Baron's
attainder, could not be affected by a pardon from the crown.
The old gentleman, however, said, with his usual spirit, he was
more gratified by the hold he possessed in the good opinion of
his neighbours than he would have been in being " rehabilitated
aad restored in integrum, had it been found practicable."

WAVERLEY. 419

We shall not attempt to describe the meeting of the father
and daughter — loving each other so affectionately, and separated
imder such perilous circumstances. Still less shall we attempt
to analyze the deep blush of Rose at receiving the compliments
of Waverley, or stop to inquire whether she had any curiosity
respecting the particular cause of his journey to Scotland at
that period. We shall not even trouble the reader with the
humdrum details of a courtship Sixty Years since. It is enough
to say, that under so strict a martinet as the Baron all things
were conducted in due form. He took upon himself, the mom-
iaig after their arrival, the task of announcing the proposal of
Waverley to Rose, which she heard with a proper degree of
maiden timidity. Fame does, however, say, that Waverley had,
the evening before, found five minutes to apprize her of what
was coming, while the rest of the company were looking at three
twisted serpents which formed a jet d'eau in the garden.

My fair readers will judge for themselves ; but, for my part,
I cannot conceive how so important an affair could be communi-
cated in so short a space of time ; — at least, it certainly took a
full hour in the Baron's mode of conveying it.

Waverley was now considered as a received lover in all the
forms. He was made, by dint of smirking and nodding on the
part of the lady of the house, to sit next to Miss Bradwardine
at dinner, to be Miss Bradwardiue's partner at cards. If he
came into the room, she of the four Miss Rubricks who chanced
to be next Rose was siu^e to recollect that her thimble, or her
scissors, were at the other end of the room, in order to leave
the seat nearest to Miss Bradwardine vacant for his occupation.
And sometimes, if papa and mamma were not in the way to
keep them on their good behaviour, the Misses would titter a
little. The old Laird of Duchran would also have his occasional
jest, and the old lady her remark. Even the Baron could not
refrain ; but here Rose escaped every embarrassment but that
of conjecture, for his wit was usually couched in a Latin quota-
tion. The very footmen sometimes grinned too broadly, the
maid-servants giggled mayhap too loud, and a provoking air of
intelligence seemed to pervade the whole family. Alice Bean,
the pretty maid of the cavern, who, after her father's misfortune,
as she called it, had attended Rose as fiUe-de-chambre, smiled
and smirked with the best of them. Rose and Edward, however,
endured all these little vexatious circumstances as other folks

420 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

1

obtain I

have done before and since, and probably contrived to
some indemnification, since they are not supposed, on the whole,
to have been particularly unhappy during Waverley's six days'
stay at the Duchran.

It was finally arranged that Edward should go to Waverley-
Honour to make the necessary arrangements for his marriage,
thence to London to take the proper measures for pleading his
pardon, and return as soon as possible to claim the hand of his
plighted bride. He also intended in his journey to visit Colonel
Talbot; but above all, it was his most important object to
learn the fate of the unfortunate Chief of Glennaquoich ; to
visit him at Carlisle, and to try whether anything could be
done for procuring, if not a pardon, a commutation at least, or
alleviation, of the punishment to which he was almost certain
of being condemned; — and in case of the worst, to ofier the
miserable Flora an asylum with Rose, or otherwise to assist
her views in any mode which might seem possible. The fate
of Fergus seemed hard to be averted. Edward had already
striven to interest his friend Colonel Talbot in his behalf; but
had been given distinctly to imderstand, by his reply, that his
credit in matters of that nature was totally exhausted.

The Colonel was still in Edinburgh, and proposed to wait
there for some months upon business confided to him by the
Duke of Cumberland. He was to be joined by Lady Emily,
to whom easy travelling and goat's whey were recommended,
and who was to journey northward under the escort of Francis
Stanley. Edward, therefore, met the Colonel at Edinburgh,
who wished him joy in the kindest manner on his approaching
happiness, and cheerfully undertook many commissions which
our hero was necessarily obliged to delegate to his charge.
But on the subject of Fergus he was inexorable. He satisfied
Edward, indeed, that his interference would be unavailing;
but besides. Colonel Talbot owned that he could not conscien-
tiously use any influence in favour of that unfortunate gentle-
man. " Justice," he said, " which demanded some penalty of
those who had wrapped the whole nation in fear and in mourn-
ing, could not perhaps have selected a fitter victim. He came
to the field with the fullest light upon the nature of his attempt.
He had studied and understood the subject. His father's fate
could not intimidate him; the lenity of the laws which had
restored to him his father*s property and rights could not melt

WAVERLEY. 421

him. That he was brave, generous, and possessed many good
qualities, only rendered him the more dangerous ; that he was
enlightened and accomplished made his crime the less excusable ;
that he was an enthusiast in a wrong cause only made him the
more fit to be its martyr. Above all, he had been the means of
bringing many hundreds of men into the field who, without him,
would never have broken the peace of the country.

" I repeat it," said the Colonel, " though Heaven knows with
a heart distressed for him as an individual, that this young
gentleman has studied and fully understood the desperate game
which he has played. He threw for life or death, a coronet or
a cofiBn ; and he cannot now be permitted, with justice to the
country, to draw stakes because the dice have gone against
him."

Such was the reasoning of those times, held even by brave
and humane men towards a vanquished enemy. Let us devoutly
hope that, in this respect at least, we shall never see the scenes,
or hold the sentiments, that were general in Britain Sixty
Years since.

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHTH.

To-morrow ? Oh, that's sudden I Spare him ! spare him !

Shakspeare.

Edward, attended by his former servant Alick Polwarth, who
had re-entered his service at Edinburgh, reached Carlisle while
the commission of Oyer and Terminer on his unfortunate
associates was yet sitting. He had pushed forward in haste —
not, alas ! with the most distant hope of saving Fergus, but to
see him for the last time. I ought to have mentioned that he
had furnished funds for the defence of the prisoners in the most
liberal manner, as soon as he heard that the day of trial was
fixed. A solicitor, and the first counsel, accordingly attended j
but it was upon the same footing on which the first physicians
are usually summoned to the bedside of some dying man of
rank ; — the doctors to take the advantage of some incalculable
chance of an exertion of nature — the lawyers to avail themselves
of the barely possible occurrence of some legal flaw. Edward
pressed into the court, which was extremely crowded ; but by

4^2 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

his arriving from the north, and his extreme eagerness and
agitation, it was supposed he was a relation of tlie prisoners,
and people made way for him. It was the third sitting of the
court, and there were two men at the bar. The verdict of
Guilty was already pronounced. Edward just glanced at the
bar during the momentous pause which ensued. There was no
mistaking the stately form and noble features of Fergus Mac-
Ivor, although his dress was squalid and his countenance tinged
with the sickly yellow hue of long and close imprisonment.
By his side was Evan Maccombich. Edward felt sick and dizzy
as he gazed on them ; but he was recalled to himself as the
Clerk of the Arraigns pronoimced the solemn words : " Fergus
Mac-Ivor of Glennaquoich, otherwise called Vich Ian Vohr, and
Evan Mac-Ivor, in the Dhu of Tarrascleugh, otherwise called
Evan Dhu, otherwise called Evan Maccombich, or Evan Dhu
Maccombich — you, and each of you, stand attainted of high
treason. What have you to say for yourselves why the Court
should not pronounce judgment against you, that you die
according to law?"

Fergus, as the presiding Judge was putting on the fatal cap
of' judgment, placed his own bonnet upon his head, regarded
him with a steadfast and stem look, and replied in a firm voice,
" I cannot let this numerous audience suppose that to such an
appeal I have no answer to make. But what I have to say,
you would not bear to hear, for my defence would be your
condemnation. Proceed, then, in the name of God, to do what
is permitted to you. Yesterday, and the day before, you have
condemned loyal and honourable blood to be poured forth like
water. Spare not mine. Were that of all my ancestors in my
veins, I would have peril'd it in this quarrel." He resumed his
seat, and refused again to rise.

Evan Maccombich looked at him with great earnestness, and,
rising up, seemed anxious to speak ; but the confusion of the
court, and the perplexity arising from thinking in a language
different from that in which he was to express himself, kept him
silent. There was a murmur of compassion among the specta-
tors, from an idea that the poor fellow intended to plead the
influence of his superior as an excuse for his crime. The Judge
commanded silence, and encouraged Evan to proceed.

" I was only ganging to say, my Lord," said Evan, in what
he meant to be in an insinuating manner, " that if your excel-

WAVERLET. 423

lent honour, and the honourable Court, would let Vich Ian Vohr
go free just this once, and let him gae back to France, and no
to trouble King George's government again, that ony six o' the
very best of his clan will be willing to be justified in his stead ;
and if you'll just let me gae down to Glennaquoich, I'll fetch
them up to ye mysell, to head or hang, and you may begin wi'
me the very first man."

Notwithstanding the solemnity of the occasion, a sort of laugh
was heard in the court at the extraordinary nature of the
proposal. The Judge checked this indecency, and Evan, looking
sternly around, when the murmur abated, "If the Saxon
gentlemen are laughing," he said, " because a poor man, such
as me, thinks my life, or the life of six of my degree, is worth
that of Vich Ian Vohr, it's like enough they may be very right ;
but if they laugh because they think I would not keep my word,
and come back to redeem him, I can tell them they ken neither
the heart of a Hielandman, nor the honour of a gentleman."

There was no further inclination to laugh among the audience,
and a dead silence ensued.

The Judge then pronounced upon both prisoners the sentence
of the law of high treason, with all its horrible accompaniments.
The execution was appointed for the ensuing day. " For you,
Fergus Mac-Ivor," continued the Judge, " I can hold out no
hope of mercy. You must prepare against to-morrow for your
last suff'erings here, and your great audit hereafter."

" I desire nothing else, my lord," answered Fergus, in the
same manly and firm tone.

The hard eyes of Evan, which had been perpetually bent on
his Chief, were moistened with a tear. " For you, poor ignorant
man," continued the Judge, " who, following the ideas in which
you have been educated, have this day given us a striking
example how the loyalty due to the king and state alone, is,
from your unhappy ideas of clanship, transferred to some ambi-
tious individual, who ends by making you the tool of his crimes
— for you, I say, I feel so much compassion, that if you can
make up your mind to petition for grace, I will endeavour to
procure it for you. Otherwise "

"Grace me no grace," said Evan; "since you are to shed
Vich Ian Vohr's blood, the only favour I would accept from you
is — to bid them loose my hands and gie me my claymore, and
bide you just a minute sitting where you are !"

424 WAVEKLEY NOVELS.

" Remove the prisoners," said the Judge; "his blood be upon
his own head."

Almost stupefied with his feelings, Edward found that thel
rush of the crowd had conveyed him out into the street, ere he
knew what he was doing. — His immediate wish was to see
and speak with Fergus once more. He applied at the Castle,
where his unfortunate friend was confined, but was refused
admittance. "The High Sheriff," a non-commissioned officer
said, " had requested of the governor that none should be ad-
mitted to see the prisoner excepting his confessor and his sister."

"And where was Miss Mac-Ivor?" They gave him the direc-
tion. It was the house of a respectable Catholic family near
Carlisle.

Repulsed from the gate of the Castle, and not venturing to
make application to the High Sheriff or Judges in his own
unpopular name, he had recourse to the solicitor who came
down in Fergus's behalf. This gentleman told him, that it was
thought the public mind was in danger of being debauched by
the account of the last moments of these persons, as given by
the friends of the Pretender ; that there had been a resolution,
therefore, to exclude all such persons as had not the plea of near
kindred for attending upon them. Yet he promised (to oblige
the heir of Waverley-Honour) to get him an order for admitri
tance to the prisoner the next morning, before his irons wer^'^
knocked off for execution.

" Is it of Fergus Mac-Ivor they speak thus," thought Waver-
ley, "or do I dream 1 of Fergus, the bold, the chivalrous, the
free-minded — the lofty chieftain of a tribe devoted to him 1 Is
it he, that I have seen lead the chase and head the attack, —
the brave, the active, the young, the noble, the love of ladies,
and the theme of song — is it he who is ironed like a malefactor
— ^who is to be dragged on a hurdle to the common gallows — to
die a lingering and cruel death, and to be mangled by the hand
of the most outcast of wretches ? Evil indeed was the spectre
that boded such a fate as this to the brave Chief of Glenna-
quoich !"

With a faltering voice he requested the solicitor to find
means to warn Fergus of his intended visit, should he obtain
permission to make it. He then turned away from him, and,
returning to the inn, wrote a scarcely intelligible note to Flora
Mac-Ivor, intimating his purpose to wait upon her that evening;

WAVERLEY. 426

The messenger brought back a letter in Flora's beautiful Italian
hand, which seemed scarce to tremble even under this load of
misery. "Miss Flora Mac-Ivor," the letter bore, "could not
refuse to see the dearest friend of her dear brother, even in her
present circumstances of unparalleled distress."

When Edward reached Miss Mac-Ivor's present place of abode,
he was instantly admitted. In a large and gloomy tapestried
apartment, Flora was seated by a latticed window, sewing what
seemed to be a garment of white flannel. At a little distance
sat an elderley woman, apparently a foreigner, and of a religious
order. She was reading in a book of Catholic devotion ; but
when Waverley entered, laid it on the table and left the room
Flora rose to receive him, and stretched out her hand, but
neither ventured to attempt speech. Her fine complexion
was totally gone; her person considerably emaciated; and
her face and hands as white as the purest statuary marble,
forming a strong contrast with her sable dress and jet-black
hair. Yet, amid these marks of distress, there was nothing
negligent or ill-arranged about her attire ; even her hair, though
totally without ornament, was disposed with her usual attention
to neatness. The first words she uttered were, "Have you
seen himl"

"Alas, no," answered Waverley; "I have been refused
admittance."

" It accords with the rest," she said ; " but we must submit,
Shall you obtain leave, do you suppose V'

"For — for — to-morrow," said Waverley; but muttering the
last word so faintly that it was almost unintelligible.

" Ay, then or never," said Flora, " until " — she added, look-
ing upward, " the time when, I trust, we shaU aU meet. But
I hope you will see him while earth yet bears him. He always
loved you at his heart, though — ^but it is vain to talk of the
past."

" Vain indeed !" echoed Waverley.

" Or even of the future, my good friend," said Flora, "so far
as earthly events are concerned ; for how often have I pictured
to myself the strong possibility of this horrid issue, and tasked
myself to consider how I could support my part ; and yet how
far has all my anticipation fallen short of the unimaginable
bitterness of this hour !"

" Dear Flora, if your strength of mind "

426 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

" Ay, there it is," she answered, somewhat wildly j " there is
Mr. Waverley, there is a busy devil at my heart that whispers
— but it were madness to listen to it — that the strength of mind
on which Flora prided herself has murdered her brother !"

" Good God ! how can you give utterance to a thought so
shocking?"

" Ay, is it not so ? — but yet it haunts me like a phantom :
I know it is unsubstantial and vain ; but it will be present —
will intrude its horrors on my mind — will whisper that my
brother, as volatile as ardent, would have divided his energies
amid a hundred objects. It was I who taught him to concen-
trate them, and to gage all on this dreadful and desperate cast.
Oh that I could recollect that I had but once said to him, ' He
that striketh with the sword shall die by the sword ;' that I had
but once said. Remain at home ; reserve yourself, your vassals,
your life, for enterprises within the reach of man. But oh, Mr.
Waverley, I spurred his fiery temper, and half of his ruin at
least lies with his sister !"

The horrid idea which she had intimated Edward endeavoured
to combat by every incoherent argument that occurred to him.
He recalled to her the principles on which both thought it their
duty to act, and in which they had been educated.

" Do not think I have forgotten them," she said, looking up,
with eager quickness ; " I do not regret his attempt because it
was wrong — oh no ! on that point I am armed — but because it
was impossible it could end otherwise than thus."

"Yet it did not always seem so desperate and hazardous as
it was ; and it would have been chosen by the bold spirit of
Fergus whether you had approved it or no ; your counsels only
served to give unity and consistence to his conduct ; to dignify,
but not to precipitate, his resolution." Flora had soon ceased to
listen to Edward, and was again intent upon her needle-work.

"Do you remember," she said, looking up with a ghastly
smile, " you once found me making Fergus's bride-favours, and
now I am sewing his bridal-garment. Our friends here," she
continued, with suppressed emotion, "are to give hallowed
earth in their chapel to the bloody relics of the last Vich Ian
Vohr. But they will not all rest together ; no — his head ! — I
shall not have the last miserable consolation of kissing the cold
lips of my dear, dear Fergus !"

The unfortunate Flora here, after one or two hysterical sobs.

WAVEKLEY.

427

fainted in her chair. The lady, who had been attending in the
ante-room, now entered hastily, and begged Edward to leave the
room, but not the house.

When he was recalled, after tlie space of nearly half-an-hour,
he found that, by a strong effort. Miss Mac-Ivor had greatly
composed herself. It was then he ventured to urge Miss
Bradwardine's claim to be considered as an adopted sister, and
empowered to assist her plans for the future.

" I have had a letter from my dear Rose," she replied, " to
the same purpose. Sorrow is selfish and engrossing, or I would
have written to express that, even in my own despair, I felt a
gleam of pleasure at learning her happy prospects, and at hearing
that the good old Baron has escaped the general wreck. Give
this to my dearest Rose ; it is her poor Flora's only ornament of
value, and was the gift of a princess." She put into his hands
a case containing the chain of diamonds with which she used to
decorate her hair. " To me it is in future useless. The kind-
ness of my friends has secured me a retreat in the convent of
the Scottish Benedictine nuns in Paris. To-morrow — if indeed
I can survive to-morrow — I set forward on my journey with
this venerable sister. And now, Mr. Waverley, adieu ! May
you be as happy with Rose as your amiable dispositions deserve !
— and think sometimes on the friends you have lost. Do not
attempt to see me again ! it would be mistaken kindness."

She gave him her hand, on which Edward shed a torrent of
tears, and, with a faltering step, withdrew from the apartment,
and returned to the town of Carlisle. At the inn he found a
letter from his law friend, intimating that he would be admitted
to Fergus next morning as soon as the Castle gates were opened,
and permitted to remain with him till the arrival of the Sheriff
gave signal for the fatal procession.

428 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINTH.

A darker departure is near,

The death -drum is muffled, and sable the bier.

Campbell.

After a sleepless night, the first dawn of morning found
Waverley on the esplanade in front of the old Gothic gate of
Carlisle Castle. But he paced it long in every direction before
the hour when, according to the rules of the garrison, the gates
were opened and the drawbridge lowered. He produced his
order to the sergeant of the guard, and was admitted.

The place of Fergus's confinement was a gloomy and vaulted
apartment in the central part of the Castle — a huge old tower,
supposed to be of great antiquity, and surrounded by outworks,
seemingly of Henry VIII. 's time, or somewhat later. The grat-
ing of the large old-fashioned bars and bolts, withdrawn for the
purpose of admitting Edward, was answered by the clash of
chains, as the unfortunate Chieftain, strongly and heavily
fettered, shuffled along the stone floor of his prison to fling him-
self into his friend's arms.

"My dear Edward," he said, in a firm, and even cheerful
voice," this is truly kind. I heard of your approaching happi-
ness with the highest pleasure. And how does Rose ? and how
is our old whimsical friend the Baron 1 Well, I trust, since I see
you at freedom. — ^And how will you settle precedence between
the three ermines passant and the bear and boot-jack^"

" How, 0 how, my dear Fergus, can you talk of such things
at such a moment !"

"Why, we have entered Carlisle with happier auspices, to
be sure — on the 16th of November last, for example, when we
marched in, side by side, and hoisted the white flag on these
ancient towers. But I am no boy, to sit down and weep because
the luck has gone against me. I Imew the stake which I risked ;
we played the game boldly, and the forfeit shaU be paid man-
fully. Ajid now, since my time is short, let me come to the
questions that interest me most — The Prince 1 has he escaped
the blood-hounds?"

WAVERLEY. 429

" He has, and is in safety."

" Praised be God for that ! Tell me the particulars of his
escape."

Waverley communicated that remarkable history so far as it
had then transpired, to which Fergus listened with deep interest.
He then asked after several other friends; and made many
minute inquiries concerning the fate of his own clansmen. They
had suffered less than other tribes who had been engaged in the
affair; for, having in a great measure dispersed and returned
home after the captivity of their Chieftain, according to the
universal custom of the Highlanders, they were not in arms
when the insurrection was finally suppressed, and consequently
were treated with less rigour. This Fergus heard with great
satisfaction.

" You are rich," he said, " Waverley, and you are generous.
When you hear of these poor Mac-Ivors being distressed about
their miserable possessions by some harsh overseer or agent of
government, remember you have worn their tartan, and are an
adopted son of their race. The Baron, who knows our manners,
and lives near our country, will apprize you of the time and
means to be their protector. Will you promise this to the last
Vichlan Vohr?"

Edward, as may well be believed, pledged his word ; which
he afterwards so amply redeemed, that his memory still lives in
these glens by the name of the Friend of the Sons of Ivor.

" Would to God," continued the Chieftain, " I could bequeath
to you my rights to the love and obedience of this primitive
and brave race : — or at least, as I have striven to do, persuade
poor Evan to accept of his life upon their terms, and be to you
what he has been to me, the kindest — the bravest — the most
devoted "

The tears which his own fate could not draw forth, fell fast
for that of his foster-brother.

" But," said he, drying them, " that cannot be. You cannot
be to them Vich Ian Vohr ; and these three magic words," said
he, half smiling, "are the only Open Sesame to their feelings
and sympathies, and poor Evan must attend his foster-brother
in death, as he has done through his whole life."

" And I am sure," said Maccombich, raising himself from the
floor, on which, for fear of interrupting their conversation, he
had lain so still, that in the obscurity of the apartment Edward

430 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

I

was not aware of his presence — " I am sure Evan never tlesired
or deserved a better end than just to die with his Chieftain."

" And now/' said Fergus, " while we are upon the subject of
clanship — what think you now of the prediction of the Bodach
Grlas?" — Then, before Edward could answer, "I saw him again
last night — he stood la the slip of moonshine which fell from
that high and narrow window towards my bed. Why should I
fear him, I thought — to-morrow, long ere this time, I shall be
as immaterial as he. ' False Spirit !' I said, 'art thou come to
close thy walks on earth, and to enjoy thy triumph in the fall
of the last descendant of thine enemy !' The spectre seemed to
beckon and to smile as he faded from my sight. What do you
think of it ? — I asked the same question of the priest, who is a
good and sensible man ; he admitted that the church allowed
that such apparitions were possible, but urged me not to permit
my mind to dwell upon it, as imagination plays us such strange
tricks. What do you think of it V

" Much as your confessor," said Waverley, willing to avoid
dispute upon such a point at such a moment. A tap at the door
now announced that good man, and Edward retired while he
administered to both prisoners the last rites of religion, in the
mode which the Church of Rome prescribes.

In about an hour he was re-admitted ; soon after, a file of
soldiers entered with a blacksmith, who struck the fetters from
the legs of the prisoners.

" You see the compliment they pay to our Highland strength
and courage — we have lain chained here like wild beasts, till
our legs are cramped into palsy, and when they free us, they
send six soldiers with loaded muskets to prevent our taking the
castle by storm !"

Edward afterwards learned that these severe precautions had
been taken ia consequence of a desperate attempt of the prisoners
to escape, in which they had very nearly succeeded.

Shortly afterwards the drums of the garrison beat to arms.
" This is the last turn-out," said Fergus, " that I shall hear and
obey. And now, my dear, dear Edward, ere we part let us
speak of Flora — a subject which awakes the tenderest feeling
that yet thrills within me."

" We part not here /" said Waverley,

" 0 yes, we do ; you must come no farther. Not tliat I feat
what is to follow for myself," he said proudly : " Nature has

WAVERLEY. 431

her tortures as well as art ; and bow happy should we think
the man who escapes from the throes of a mortal and painful
disorder, in the space of a short half hour 1 And this matter,
spin it out as they will, cannot last longer. But what a dying
man can suffer firmly, may kill a living friend to look upon. —
This same law of high treason," he continued, with astonishing
firmness and composure, " is one of the blessings, Edward, with
which your free country has accommodated poor old Scotland :
her own jurisprudence, as I have heard, was much milder. But
I suppose one day or other — when there are no longer any wild
Highlanders to benefit by its tender mercies — they will blot it
from their records, as levelling them with a nation of cannibals.
The mummery, too, of exposing the senseless head — they have
not the wit to grace mine with a paper coronet ; there would
be some satire in that, Edward. I hope they will set it on the
Scotch gate though, that I may look, even after death, to the
blue hills of my own country, which I love so dearly. The
Baron would have added,

Moritur, et moriens dulces, reminiscitur Argos. "

A bustle, and the sound of wheels and horses' feet, was now
heard in the court-yard of the Castle. " As I have told you
why you must not follow me, and these sounds admonish me
that my time flies fast, tell me how you found poor Flora ? "

Waverley, with a voice interrupted by suffocating sensations,
gave some account of the state of her mind.

" Poor Flora ! " answered the Chief, " she could have borne
her own sentence of death, but not mine. You, Waverley, will
soon know the happiness of mutual affection in the married
state — long, long, may Rose and you enjoy it ! — but you can
never know the purity of feeling which combines two orphans,
like Flora and me, left alone as it were in the world, and being
all in all to each other from our very infancy. But her strong
sense of duty, and predominant feeling of loyalty, will give new
nerve to her mind after the immediate and acute sensation of
this parting has passed away. She will then think of Fergus
as of the heroes of our race, upon whose deeds she loved to
dweU."

"Shall she not see you, then?" asked Waverley. "She
seemed to expect it."

" A necessary deceit will spare her the last dreadful parting.

*32 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

I

I could not part with her without tears, and I cannot bear that
these men should think they have power to extort them. She
was made to believe she would see me at a later hour, and this . _
letter, which my confessor will deliver, will apprise her that all ■
is over." ™

An ofl&cer now appeared, and intimated that the High Sheriff
and his attendants waited before the gate of the Castle, to claim
the bodies of Fergus Mac-Ivor and Evan Maccombich. "I
come," said Fergus. Accordingly, supporting Edward by the
arm, and followed by Evan Dhu and the priest, he moved down
the stairs of the tower, the soldiers bringing up the rear. The
court was occupied by a squadron of dragoons and a battalion
of infantry, drawn up in hollow square. Within their ranks
was the sledge, or hurdle, on which the prisoners were to be
drawn to the place of execution, about a mile distant from
Carlisle. It was painted black, and drawn by a white horse.
At one end of the vehicle sat the Executioner, a horrid-looking
fellow, as beseemed his trade, with the broad axe in his hand ;
at the other end, next the horse, was an empty seat for two
persons. Through the deep and dark Gothic archway, that
opened on the drawbridge, were seen on horseback the High
Sheriff and his attendants, whom the etiquette betwixt the civil ■ ;
and military powers did not permit to come farther. "This Ij
is well GOT UP for a closing scene," said Fergus, smiling dis-
dainfully as he gazed around upon the apparatus of terror.
Evan Dhu exclaimed with some eagerness, after looking at the
dragoons, "These are the very chields that galloped off at
Gladsmuir, before we could kill a dozen o' them. They look
bold enough now, however." The priest entreated him to be
silent.

The sledge now approached, and Fergus turning round,
embraced Waverley, kissed him on each side of the face, and
stepped nimbly into his place. Evan sat down by his side.
The priest was to follow in a carriage belonging to his patron,
the Catholic gentleman at whose house Flora resided. As
Fergus waved his hand to Edward, the ranks closed around the
sledge, and the whole procession began to move forward. There
was a momentary stop at the gateway, while the governor of
the Castle and the High Sheriff went through a short ceremony,
the military officer there delivering over the persons of the
criminals to the civil power. " God save King George ! " said

WAVERLEY. 433

the High Sheriff. When tlie formality conchuled, Fergus stood
erect in the sledge, and with a firm and steady voice, replied,
"God save King James!" These were the last words which
"VVaverley heard him speak.

The procession resumed its march, and the sledge vanished
from beneath the portal, under which it had stopped for an
instant. The dead march was then heard, and its melancholy
sounds were mingled with those of a muffled peal, tolled from
the neighbouring cathedral. The sound of the military music
died away as the procession moved on — the sullen clang of the
bells was soon heard to sound alone.

The last of the soldiers had now disappeared from under the
vaulted archway through which they had been filing for several
minutes ; the court-yard was now totally empty, but Waverley
still stood there as if stupefied, his eyes fixed upon the dark
pass where he had so lately seen the last glimpse of his friend.
At length, a female servant of the governor's, struck with
compassion at the stupefied misery which his countenance
ex])ressed, asked him if he would not walk into her master's
house and sit down ? She was obliged to repeat her question
twice ere he comprehended her, but at length it recalled him
to himself. Declining the courtesy by a hasty gesture, he
pulled his hat over his eyes, and, leaving the Castle, walked as
swiftly as he could through the empty streets, till he regained
his inn, then mshed into an apartment, and bolted the door.

In about an hour and a half, which seemed an age of
imutterable suspense, the sound of the dnims and fifes, per-
forming a lively air, and the confused murmur of the crowd
which now filled the streets, so lately deserted, apprized him
that all was finished, and that the military and populace were
returning from the dreadful scene. I will not attempt to
describe his sensations.

In the evening the priest made him a visit, and informed
him that he did so by directions of his deceased friend, to
assure him that Fergus Mac-Ivor had died as he lived, and
remembered his friendship to the last. He added, he had also
seen Flora, whose state of mind seemed more composed since all
was over. With her, and sister Theresa, the priest proposed
next day to leave Carlisle, for the nearest seaport from which
they could embark for France. Waverley forced on this good
man a ring of some value, and a sum of money to be employed
voc^ 1, 2 p

434 WAVEKLEY NOVELS.

1

(as he thought might gratify Flora) in the services of the
Catholic church, for the memory of his friend. " Fungarque iriani
mutiere,'' he repeated, as the ecclesiastic retired. " Yet why not
class these acts of remembrance with other honours, with which
affection, in all sects, pursues the memory of the dead ?"

The next morning, ere day-light, he took leave of the town
of Carlisle, promising to himself never again to enter its walls.
He dared hardly look back towards the Gothic battlements of
the fortified gate under which he passed (for the place is
surrounded with an old wall.) "They're no there," said Alick
Polwarth, who guessed the cause of the dubious look which
Waverley cast backward, and who, with the vulgar appetite for
the horrible, was master of each detail of the butchery — " the
heads are ower the Scotch yate, as they ca' it. It's a great
pity of Evan Dhu, who was a very weel-meaning, good-natured
man, to be a Hielandman; and indeed so was the Laird o'
Clennaquoich too, for that matter, when he wasna in ane o' his
tirrivies."

CHAPTER SEVENTIETH.

DULCE DOMUM.

The impression of horror with which Waverley left Carlisle
softened by degrees into melancholy — a gradation which was
accelerated by the painful, yet soothing task of writing to Rose ;
and, while he could not suppress his own feelings of the
calamity, he endeavoured to place it in a light which might
grieve her without shocking her imagination. The picture
which he drew for her benefit he gradually familiarised to his
own mind; and his next letters were more cheerful, and
referred to the prospects of peace and happiness which lay
before them. Yet, though his first horrible sensations had sunk
into melancholy, Edward had reached his native county before
he could, as usual on former occasions, look round for enjoyment
upon the face of nature.

He then, for the first time since leaving Edinburgh, began to
experience that pleasure which almost all feel who return to a
verdant, populous, and highly cultivated country, from scenes of
waste desolation, or of solitary and melancholy grandeur. But

WAVERLEY. 435

how were those feelings enhanced when he entered on the
domain so long possessed by liis forefathers ; recognised tlie old
oaks of Waverley-Chase ; thought with what delight he should
introduce Rose to all his favourite haunts; beheld at length
the towers of the venerable ball arise above the woods which
embowered it, and finally threw himself into the arms of the
venerable relations to whom he owed so much duty and
affection !

The happiness of their meeting was not tarnished by a single
word of reproach. On the contrary, whatever pain Sir Everard
and Mrs. Rachel had felt during Waverley's perilous engage-
ment with the young Chevalier, it assorted too well with the
principles in which they had been brought up, to incur repro-
bation, or even censure. Colonel Talbot also had smoothed the
way, with great address, for Edward's favourable reception, by
dwelling upon his gallant behaviour in the military character,
particularly his bravery and generosity at Preston ; until, warmed
at the idea of their nephew's engaging in single combat, making
prisoner, and saving from slaughter so distinguished an officer
as the Colonel himself, the imagination of the Baronet and his
sister ranked the exploits of Edward with those of Wilibert,
Hildebrand, and Nigel, the vaunted heroes of their line.

The appearance of Waverley, embrowned by exercise, and
dignified by the habits of military discipline, had acquired an
athletic and hardy character, which not only verified the Colonel's
narration, but surprised and delighted all the inhabitants of
Waverley-Honour. They crowded to see, to hear him, and to
sing his praises. Mr. Pembroke, who secretly extolled his spirit
and courage in embracing the genuine cause of the Church of
England, censured his pupil gently, nevertheless, for being so
careless of his manuscripts, which indeed he said, had occasioned
him some personal inconvenience, as, upon the Baronet's being
arrested by a king's messenger, he had deemed it prudent to
retire to a concealment called " The Priest's Hole," from the use
it had been put to in former days ; where he assured our hero,
the butler had thought it safe to venture with food only once in
the day, so that he had been repeatedly compelled to dine upon
victuals either absolutely cold, or, what was worse, only half
warm, not to mention that sometimes his bed had not been
arranged for two days together. Waverley's mind involuntarily
turned to the Patmos of the Baron of Bradwardiue. who was

436 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

well pleased with Janet's fare, and a few bunches of stray/
stowed in a cleft in the front of a sand-cliff: but he made
no remarks upon a contrast which could only mortify his worthy
tutor.

All was now in a bustle to prepare for the nuptials of
Edward, an event to which the good old Baronet and Mrs.
Rachel looked forward as if to the renewal of their o^\ti youth.
The match, as Colonel Talbot had intimated, had seemed to
them in the highest degree eligible, having every recommenda-
tion but wealth, of which they themselves had more than enough.
Mr. Clippurse was therefore summoned to Waverley-Honour,
under better auspices than at the commencement of our story.
But Mr. Clippurse came not alone ; for, being now stricken in
years, he had associated with him a nephew, a younger vulture
(as our English Juvenal, who tells the tale of Swallow the
attorney, might have called him), and they now carried on
business as Messrs. Clippurse and Hookem. These worthy
gentlemen had directions to make the necessary settlements on
the most splendid scale of liberality, as if Edward were to wed
a peeress in her own right, with her paternal estate tacked to
the fringe of her ermine.

But before entering upon a subject of proverbial delay, I
must remind my reader of the progress of a stone rolled down
hill by an idle truant boy (a pastime at which I was myself
expert in my more juvenile years) : it moves at first slowly,
avoiding by inflection every obstacle of the least importance ;
but when it has attained its full impulse, and draws near the
conclusion of its career, it smokes and thunders down, taking a
rood at every spring, clearing hedge and ditch like a Yorkshire
huntsman, and becoming most furiously rapid in its course when
it is nearest to being consigned to rest for ever. Even such is
the course of a narrative like that which you are perusing. The
earlier events are studiously dwelt upon, that you, kind reader,
may be introduced to the character rather by narrative, than by
the duller medium of direct description; but when the story
draws near its close, we hurry over the circumstances, however
important, which your imagination must have forestalled, and
leave you to suppose those things which it would be abusing
your patience to relate at length.

We are, therefore, so far from attempting to trace the dull
progress of Messrs. Clippurse and Hookem, or that of their

WAVERLEY. 437

worthy official brethren, who had the charge of siiiDg out the
pardons of Edward Waverley and his intended father-in-law,
that we can but touch upon matters more attractive. The
mutual epistles, for example, which were exchanged between
Sir Everard and the Baron upon this occasion, though matchless
specimens of eloquence in their way, must be consigned to
merciless oblivion. Nor can I tell you at length, how worthy
Aunt Rachel, not without a delicate and affectionate allusion
to the circumstances which had transferred Rose's maternal
diamonds to the hands of Donald Bean Lean, stocked her casket
with a set of jewels that a duchess might have envied. More-
over, the reader will have the goodness to imagine that Job
Houghton and his dame were suitably provided for, although
they could never be persuaded that their son fell otherwise than
fighting by the young squire's side ; so that Alick, who, as a
lover of truth, had made many needless attempts to expound
the real circumstances to them, was finally ordered to say not a
word more upon the subject. He indemnified hunself, however,
by the liberal allowance of desperate battles, grisly executions,
and raw-head and bloody-bone stories, with which he astonished
the servants' hall.

But although these important matters may be briefly told in
narrative, like a newspaper report of a Chancery suit, yet, with
all the urgency which Waverley could use, the real time which
the law proceedings occupied, joined to the delay occasioned
by the mode of travelling at that period, rendered it consider-
ably more than two months ere Waverley, having left England,
alighted once more at the mansion of the Laird of Duchran to
claim the hand of his plighted bride.

The day of his marriage was fixed for the sixth after his
arrival. The Baron of Bradwardine, with whom bridals,
christenings, and funerals, were festivals of high and solemn
import, felt a little hurt, that, including the family of the
Duchran, and all the immediate vicinity who had title to be
present on such an occasion, there could not be above thirty
persons collected. "When he was married," he observed,
''■ three hundred horse of gentlemen born, besides servants, and
some score or two of Highland lairds, who never got on horse-
back, were present on the occasion."

But his pride found some consolation in reflecting, that he
and his son-in-law having been so lately in arms against Govern-

438 WAVERLEY NOVELS

I

ment, it might give matter of reasonable fear and offence to the
ruling powers, if they were to collect together the kith, kin, and
allies of their houses, arrayed in effeir of war, as was the ancient
custom of Scotland on these occasions — " And, without dubita-
tion," he concluded with a sigh, " many of those who would
have rejoiced most freely upon these joyful espousals, are either
gone to a better place, or are now exiles from their native land."
The marriage took place on the appointed day. The Reverend
Mr. Kubrick, kinsman to the proprietor of the hospitable mansion
where it was solemnised, and chaplain to the Baron of Brad-
wardine, had the satisfaction to unite their hands ; and Frank
Stanley acted as bridesman, having joined Edward with that
view soon after his arrival. Lady Emily and Colonel Talbot
had proposed being present; but Lady Emily's health, when
the day approached, was found inadequate to the journey. In
amends, it was arranged that Edward Waverley and his lady,
who, with the Baron, proposed an immediate journey to Waver-
ley-Honour, should, in their way, spend a few days at an estate
which Colonel Talbot had been tempted to purchase in Scotland
as a very great bargain, and at which he proposed to reside
for some time.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIRST.

This is no mine ain house, I ken by the bigging o't. — Old Sonq.

The nuptial party travelled in great style. There was a coach
and six after the newest pattern, which Sir Everard had presented
to his nephew, that dazzled with its splendour the eyes of one
half of Scotland ; there was the family coach of Mr. Rubrick ; —
both these were crowded with ladies, and there were gentlemen
on horseback, with their servants, to the number of a round
score. Nevertheless, without having the fear of famine before
his eyes. Bailie Macwheeble met them in the road to entreat
that they would pass by his house at Little Veolan. The Baron
stared, and said his son and he would certainly ride by Little
Veolan, and pay their compliments to the Bailie, but could not
think of bringing with them the " haill comitatus nuptialis, or
matrimonial procession. " He added, " that, as he understood that

WAVERLET. 439

the barony had been sold by its unworthy possessor, he was glad
to see his old friend Duncan had regained his situation under
the new Dominus, or proprietor." The Bailie ducked, bowed,
and fidgeted, and then again insisted upon his invitation ; until
the Baron, though rather piqued at the pertinacity of his
instances, could not nevertheless refuse to consent, without
making evident sensations which he was anxious to conceal.

He fell into a deep study as they approached the top of the
avenue, and was only startled from it by observing that the
battlements were replaced, the ruins cleared away, and (most
wonderful of all) that the two great stone Bears, those mutilated
Dagons of his idolatry, had resumed their posts over the gate-
way. "Now this new proprietor," said he to Edward, "has
shown mair gusto, as the Italians call it, in the short time he
has had this domain, than that hound Malcolm, though I bred
him here mysell, has acquired vita adhuc durante. — And now
I talk of hounds, is not yon Ban and Buscar, who come scouping
up the avenue with Davie Gellatley?"

"I vote we should go to meet them, sir," said Waverley,
" for I believe the present master of the house is Colonel Talbot,
who will expect to see us. We hesitated to mention to you
at first that he had purchased your ancient patrimonial property,
and even yet, if you do not incline to visit him, we can pass on
to the Bailie's."

The Baron had occasion for all his magnanimity. However,
he drew a long breath, took a long snuff, and observed, since
they had brought him so far, he could not pass the Colonel's
gate, and he would be happy to see the new master of his old
tenants. He alighted accordingly, as did the other gentlemen
and ladies; — he gave his arm to his daughter, and as they
descended the avenue, pointed out to her how speedily the
" Diva Pecunia of the Southron — ^their tutelary deity, he might
call her — had removed the marks of spoliation."

In truth, not only had the felled trees been removed, but,
their stumps being grubbed up, and the earth round them
levelled and sown with grass, every mark of devastation, unless
to an eye intimately acquainted with the spot, was already
totally obliterated. There was a similar reformation in the
outward man of Davie Gellatley, who met them, every now
and then stopping to admire the new suit which graced his
person, in the same colours as formerly, but bedizened fine

4:40 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

i

euough to have served Touchstone himself. He danced up
with his usual ungainly frolics, first to the Baron, and then to
Rose, passing his hands over his clothes, crying, ^^ Bra\ bra'
Davie" and scarce able to sing a bar to an end of his thousand-
and-one-songs, for the breathless extravagance of his joy. The
dogs also acknowledged their old master with a thousand
gambols. " Upon my conscience. Rose," ejaculated the Baron,
" the gratitude o' thae dumb brutes, and of that puir innocent,
brings the tears into my auld een, while that schellum Malcolm
— ^but I'm obliged to Colonel Talbot for putting my hounds
into such good condition, and likewise for puir Davie. But,
Rose, my dear, we must not permit them to be a liferent burden
upon the estate."

As he spoke. Lady Emily, leaning upon the arm of her
husband, met the party at the lower gate, with a thousand
welcomes. After the ceremony of introduction had been gone
through, much abridged by the ease and excellent breeding of
Lady Emily, she apologised for having used a little art, to
wile them back to a place which might awaken some painful
reflections — " But as it was to change masters, we were very
desirous that the Baron "

"Mr. Bradwardine, madam, if you please," said the old
gentleman.

" — Mr. Bradwardine, then, and Mr. Waverley, should see
what we have done towards restoring the mansion of your
fathers to its former state."

The Baron answered with a low bow. Indeed, when he
entered the court, excepting that the heavy stables, which had
been burnt down, were replaced by buildings of a lighter and
more picturesque appearance, all seemed as much as possible
restored to the state in which he had left it when he assumed
arms some months before. The pigeon-house was replenished ;
the fountain played with its usual activity ; and not only the
Bear who predominated over its basin, but all the other Bears
whatsoever, were replaced on their several stations, and renewed
or repaired with so much care, that they bore no tokens of the
violence which had so lately descended upon them. While
these minutia) had been so heedfully attended to, it is scarce
necessary to add, that the house itself had been thoroughly
repaired, as well as the gardens, with the strictest attention to
maintain the original character of both, and to remove as far

WAVERLEY. 441

as possible, all appearance of the ravage they had sustained.
The Baron gazed in silent wonder; at length he addressed
Colonel Talbot :

"While I acknowledge my obligation to you, sir, for the
restoration of the badge of our family, I cannot but marvel
that you have nowhere established your own crest, whilk is, I
believe, a mastive, anciently called a talbot ; as the poet has it,

A talbot strong — a sturdy tyke.

At least such a dog is the crest of the martial and renowned
Earls ot Shrewsbury, to whom your family are probably blood
relations."

" I believe," said the Colonel, smiling, " our dogs are whelps
of the same litter : for my part, if crests were to dispute
precedence, I should be apt to let them, as the proverb says,
'fight dog, fight bear.'"

As he made this speech, at which the Baron took another
long pinch of snuff, they had entered the house — that is, the
Baron, Rose, and Lady Emily, with young Stanley and the
Bailie, for Edward and the rest of the party remained on the
terrace to examine a new green-house stocked with the finest
plants. The Baron resumed his favourite topic : " However
it may please you to derogate from the honour of your burgonet,
Colonel Talbot, which is doubtless your humour, as I have seen
in other gentlemen of birth and honour in your country, I must
again repeat it as a most ancient and distinguished bearing, as
well as that of my young friend Francis Stanley, which is the
eagle and child."

"The bird and bantling, they call it in Derbyshire, sir," said
Stanley.

" Ye're a daft callant, sir," said the Baron, who had a great
liking to this young man, perhaps because he sometimes teased
him — " Ye're a daft callant, and I must correct you some of
these days," shaking his great brown fist at him. " But what
I meant to say. Colonel Talbot, is, that yours is an ancient
prosapiciy or descent, and since you have lawfully and justly
acquired the estate for you and yours, which I have lost for me
and mine, I wish it may remain in your name as many centuries
as it has done in that of the late proprietor's."

"That," answered the Colonel, "is very handsome, Mr.
Bradwardine, indeed."

U2 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

** And yet, sir, I cannot but marvel that you, Colonel, v
r noted to have so much of the amor patrice, when we m
Edinburgh, as even to vilipend other countries, should have
chosen to establish your Lares, or household gods, procul a
patrice finibus, and in a manner to expatriate yourself."

" Why really. Baron, I do not see why, to keep the secret of
these foolish boys, Waverley and Stanley, and of my wife, who
is no wiser, one old soldier should continue to impose upon
another. You must know, then, that I have so much of that
same prejudice in favour of my native country, that the sum of
money which I advanced to the seller of this extensive barony

has only purchased for me a box in shire, called Brerewood

Lodge, with about two himdred and fifty acres of land, the
chief merit of which is, that it is within a very few miles of
Waverley-Honour. "

" And who, then, in the name of Heaven, has bought this
property?"

" That," said the Colonel, " it is this gentleman's profession
to explain."

The Bailie, whom this reference regarded, and who had all
this while shifted from one foot to another with great impa-
tience, " like a hen," as he afterwards said, " upon a het girdle;"
and chuckling, he might have added, like the said hen in aU
the glory of laying an egg — now pushed forward : " That I can,
that I can, your Honour," drawing from his pocket a budget
of papers, and untying the red tape with a hand trembling with
eagerness. " Here is the disposition and assignation, by Mal-
colm Bradwardine of Inch-Grabbit, regularly signed and tested
in terms of the statute, whereby, for a certain sum of sterling
money presently contented and paid to him, he has dis-
poned, alienated, and conveyed the whole estate and barony of
Bradwardine, TuUy-Veolan, and others, mth the fortalice and

manor-place "

For God's sake, to the point, sir — I have all that by heart,"
said the Colonel.

"To Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Esq.," pursued the Bailie,
" his heirs and assignees, simply and irredeemably — to be held
either a me vel de me "

" Pray read short, sir."

" Ou the conscience of an honest man, Colonel, I read afs

WAVERLEY. 44^

Bhort as is consistent with style. — Under the burden and
reservation always "

" Mr. Macwheeble, this would outlast a Russian winter — Give
me leave. In short, Mr. Bradwardine, your family estate is
your own once more in full property, and at your absolute dis-
posal, but only burdened with the sum advanced to repurchase
it, which I understand is utterly disproportioned to its value."

"An auld sang — an auld sang, if it please your honours,"
cried the Bailie, rubbing his hands; — "look at the rental-
book."

"Which sum being advanced by Mr. Edward Waverley,
chiefly from the price of his father's property which I bought
from him, is secured to his lady your daughter, and her family
by this marriage."

"It is a Catholic security," shouted the Bailie, "to Rose
Comyne Bradwardine, alias Wauverley, in liferent, and the
children of the said marriage in fee ; and I made up a wee bit
minute of an antenuptial contract, intuitu matrimonij, so it
cannot be subject to reduction hereafter, as a donation inter
mrum et uxorem."

It is diflBcult to say whether the worthy Baron was most
delighted with the restitution of his family property, or with
the delicacy and generosity that left him unfettered to pursue
his purpose in disposing of it after his death, and which avoided,
as much as possible, even the appearance of laying him under
pecuniary obligation. When his first pause of joy and astonish-
ment was over, his thoughts turned to the unworthy heir-male,
who, he pronounced, " had sold his birthright, like Esau, for a
mess o' pottage."

"But wha cookit the parritch for him?" exclaimed the
Bailie ; " I wad like to ken that — wha but your honour's to
command, Duncan Macwheeble? His honour, young Mr.
Wauverley, put it a' into my hand frae the beginning — ^frae the
first calling o' the summons, as I may say. I circumvented
them — I played at bogle about the bush wi' them — I cajoled
them ; and if I havena gien Inch-Grabbit and Jamie Howie a
bonnie begunk, they ken themselves. Him a writer ! I didna
gae slapdash to them wi' our young bra' bridegroom, to gar
them hand up the market ; na, na ; I scared them wi' our wild
tenantry, and the Mac-Ivors, that are but ill settled yet, till
they durstna on ony errand whatsoever gang ower the door-

444 WAVERLTIY NOVELS.

Btane at'ter gloaming, for fear John Heatherblutter, or some
siccan dare-the-deil, sliould tak a baff at them : then, on the
other hand, I beflumm'd them wi' Colonel Talbot — wad they
offer to keep up the price again' the Duke's friend 1 did they na
ken wha was master 1 had they na seen eneugh, by the sad ex-
ample of mony a pair misguided unhappy body "

"Who went to Derby, for example, Mr. Macwheeble?" said
the Colonel to him, aside.

" 0 whisht. Colonel, for the love o' God ! let that flee stick
i' the wa'. There were mony good folk at Derby ; and it's ill
speaking of halters," — with a sly cast of his eye toward the
Baron, who was in a deep reverie.

Starting out of it at once, he took Macwheeble by the button,
and led him into one of the deep window recesses, whence only
fragments of their conversation reached the rest of the party.
It certainly related to stamp-paper and parchment ; for no
other subject, even from the mouth of his patron, and he, once
more, an efficient one, could have arrested so deeply the Bailie's
reverent and absorbed attention.

" I understand your honour perfectly ; it can be dune as easy
as taking out a decreet in absence."

" To her and him, after my demise, and to their heirs-male, —
but preferring the second son, if God shall bless them with two,
who is to carry the name and arms of Bradwardine of that Ilk,
without any other name or armorial bearings whatsoever."

"Tut, your honour!" whispered the Bailie, "I'll mak a
slight jotting the morn ; it will cost but a charter of resigna-
tion in favorem; and I'll hae it ready for the next term in
Exchequer."

Their private conversation ended, the Baron was now sum-
moned to do the honours of Tully-Veolan to new guests. These
were, Major MelviUe of Cairnvreckan, and the Reverend Mr.
Morton, followed by two or three others of the Baron's acquaint-
ances, who had been made privy to his having again acquu'ed
the estate of his fathers. The shouts of the villagers were also
heard beneath in the court-yard ; for Saunders Saunderson, who
had kept the secret for several days with laudable prudence,
had unloosed his tongue upon beholding the arrival of the
carriages.

But, while Edward received Major Melville with politeness,
and the clergyman with the most afiiectionate and grateful

WAVERLEY. 445

kindness, his father-in-law looked a little awkward, as uncertain
how he should answer the necessary claims of hospitality to his
guests, and forward the festivity of his tenants. Lady Emily
relieved him, by intimating, that, though she must be an
indifferent representative of Mrs. Edward Waverley in many
respects, she hoped the Baron would approve of the entertain-
ment she had ordered, in expectation of so many guests ; and
that they would find such other accommodations provided, as
might in some degree support the ancient hospitality of TuUy-
Veolan. It is impossible to describe the pleasiure which this
assurance gave the Baron, who, with an air of gallantry half
appertaining to the stiff Scottish laird, and half to the ofiicer in
the French service, offered his arm to the fair speaker, and led the
way, in something between a stride and a minuet step, into the
large dining parloiu-, followed by all the rest of the good company.

By dint of Saunderson's directions and exertions, all here, as
well as in the other apartments, had been disposed as much as
possible according to the old arrangement ; and where new
moveables had been necessary, they had been selected in the
same character with the old fm*niture. There was one addition
to this fine old apartment, however, which drew tears into the
Baron's eyes. It was a large and spirited painting, representing
Fergus Mac-Ivor and Waverley in their Highland dress; the
scene a wild, rocky, and mountainous pass, down which the
clan were descending in the background. It was taken from a
spirited sketch, drawn while they were in Edinburgh by a
young man of high genius, and had been painted on a full-
length scale by an eminent London artist. Raebum himself
(whose Highland Chiefs do all but walk out of the canvas)
could not have done more justice to the subject ; and the
ardent, fiery, and impetuous character of the unfortunate Chief
of Glennaquoich was finely contrasted with the contemplative,
fanciful, and enthusiastic expression of his happier friend.
Beside this painting hung the arms which Waverley had borne
in the unfortunate civil war. The whole piece was beheld with
admiration, and deeper feelings.

Men must, however, eat, in spite both of sentiment and
virtu ; and the Baron, while he assumed the lower end of the
tabic, insisted that Lady Emily should do the honours of the
head, that they might, he said, set a meet example to the young
folk. After a pause of deliberation, employed in adjusting in

446 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

his owii brain the precedence between the Presbyterian kirk
and Episcopal church of Scotland, he requested Mr. Morton,
as the stranger, would crave a blessing, — observing, that Mr.
Kubrick, who was at home, would return thanks for the distin-
guished mercies it had been his lot to experience. The dinner
was excellent. Saunderson attended in full costume, with all
the former domestics, who had been collected, excepting one or
two, that had not been heard of since the affair of CuUoden.
The cellars were stocked with wine which was pronounced to
be superb, and it had been contrived 'that the Bear of the
Fountain, in the court-yard, should (for that night only) play
excellent brandy punch for the benefit of the lower orders.

When the dinner was over, the Baron, about to propose a
toast, cast a somewhat sorrowful look upon the sideboard, —
which, however, exhibited much of his plate, that had either
been secreted or purchased by neighbouring gentlemen from
the soldiery, and by them gladly restored to the original owner.

" In the late times," he said, " those must be thankful who
have saved life and land : yet, when I am about to pronounce
this toast, I cannot but regi'et an old heir-loom. Lady Emily — a
poculum potatorium, Colonel Talbot "

Here the Baron's elbow was gently touched by his Major
Domo, and, turning round, he beheld, in the hands of Alexander
ab Alexandro, the celebrated cup of Saint Duthac, the Blessed
Bear of Bradwardine ! I question if the recovery of his estate
afforded him more rapture. " By my honour," he said, " one
might almost believe in brownies and fairies. Lady Emily, when
your Ladyship is in presence !"

"I am truly happy," said Colonel Talbot, "that by the
recovery of this piece of family antiquity, it has fallen within
my power to give you some token of my deep interest in all
that concerns my young friend Edward. But that you may
not suspect Lady Emily for a sorceress, or me for a conjuror,
which is no joke in Scotland, I must tell you that Frank Stanley,
your friend, who has been seized with a tartan fever ever since
he heard Edward's tales of old Scottish manners, happened to
describe to us at second hand this remarkable cup. My servant,
Spontoon, who, like a true old soldier, observes everything and
says little, gave me afterwards to understand that he thought
he had seen the piece of plate Mr. Stanley mentioned, in the
possession of a certain Mrs. Nosebag, who, having been originally

WAVEfiLE?. 4^7

the helpmate of a pawnbroker, had found opportunity, diuing
the late unpleasant scenes in Scotland, to trade a little in her
old line, and so became the depositary of the more valuable
part of the spoil of half the army. You may believe the cup
was speedily recovered ; and it will give me very great pleasure
if you allow me to suppose that its value is not diminished by
having been restored through my means."

A tear mingled with the wine which the Baron filled, as he
proposed a cup of gratitude to Colonel Talbot, and "The
Prosperity of the united Houses of Waverley-Honour and
Bradwardine !"

It only remains for me to say, that as no wish was ever
uttered with more affectionate sincerity, there are few which,
allowing for the necessary mutability of human events, have
been, upon the whole, more happily fulfilled.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SECOND.

A POSTSCRIPT, WHICH SHOULD HAVE BEEN A PREFACE.

Our journey is now finished, gentle reader ; and if your patience
has accompanied me through these sheets, the contract is, on
your part, strictly fulfilled. Yet, like the driver who has re-
ceived his full hire, I still linger near you, and make, with
becoming difiidence, a trifling additional claim upon your
bounty and good nature. You are as free, however, to shut
the volume of the one petitioner, as to close your door in the
face of the other.

This should have been a prefatory chapter, but for two
reasons : — First, that most novel readers, as my own conscience
reminds me, are apt to be guilty of the sin of omission respecting
that same matter of prefaces ; — Secondly, that it is a general
custom with that class of students, to begin with the last
chapter of a work; so that, after all, these remarks, being
introduced last in order, have still the best chance to be read
in their proper place.

There is no European nation which, within the course of half
a century, or little more, has undergone so complete a change
88 this kingdom of Scotland. The effects of the insurrection of

448 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

1745 — the destruction of the patriarchal power of the Highland
chiefs — ^the abolition of the heritable jurisdictions of the Low-
land nobility and barons — the total eradication of the Jacobite
party, which, averse to intermingle with the English, or adopt
their customs, long continued to pride themselves upon main-
taining ancient Scottish manners and customs — commenced this
innovation. The gradual influx of wealth, and extension of
commerce, have since united to render the present people of
Scotland a class of beings as different from their grandfathers as
the existing English are from those of Queen Elizabeth's time.
The political and economical effects of these changes have been
traced by Lord Selkirk with great precision and accuracy. But
the change, though steadily and rapidly progressive, has, never-
theless, been gradual ; and like those who drift down the stream
of a deep and smooth river, we are not aware of the progress we
have made, until we fix our eye on the now distant point from
which we have been drifted. — Such of the present generation as
can recollect the last twenty or twenty-five years of the eighteenth
century, will be fully sensible of the truth of this statement ; —
especially if their acquaintance and connexions lay among those
who, in my younger time, were facetiously called " folks of the
old leaven," who still cherished a lingering, though hopeless,
attachment to the house of Stuart. This race has now almost
entirely vanished from the land, and with it, doubtless, much
absurd political prejudice — but also many living examples of
singular and disinterested attachment to the principles of loyalty
which they received from their fathers, and of old Scottish faith,
hospitality, worth, and honour.

It was my accidental lot, though not born a Highlander
(which may be an apology for much bad Gaelic), to reside
during my childhood and youth among persons of the above
description ; — and now, for the purpose of preserving some idea
of the ancient manners of which I have witnessed the almost
total extinction, I have embodied in imaginary scenes, and
ascribed to fictitious characters, a part of the incidents which I
then received from those who were actors in them. Indeed,
the most romantic parts of this narrative are precisely those
which have a foundation in fact. The exchange of mutual
protection between a Highland gentleman and an officer of rank
in the king's service, together with the spirited manner in which
the latter asserted his right to return the favour he had received,

WAVERLEY. 449

is literally true. The accident by a musket-shot, and the heroio
reply imputed to Flora, relate to a lady of rank not long deceased.
And scarce a gentleman who was " in hiding " after the battle
of Culloden but could tell a tale of strange concealments, and of
wild and hair's-breadth 'scapes, as extraordinary as any which I
have ascribed to my heroes. Of this, the escape of Charles
Edward himself, as the most prominent, is the most striking
example. The accounts of the battle of Preston and skirmish
at Clifton are taken from the narrative of intelligent eye-wit-
nesses, and corrected from the History of the Rebellion by the
late venerable author of Douglas. The Lowland Scottish gentle-
men, and the subordinate characters, are not given as individual
portraits, but are drawn from the general habits of the period
(of which I have witnessed some remnants in my younger days),
and partly gathered from tradition.

It has been my object to describe these persons, not by a
caricatured and exaggerated use of the national dialect, but by
their habits, manners, and feelings; so as in some distant
degree to emulate the admirable Irish portraits drawn by Miss
Edgeworth, so different from the "Teagues" and "dear joys"
who so long, with the most perfect family resemblance to each
other, occupied the drama and the novel.

I feel no confidence, however, in the manner in which I have
executed my purpose. Indeed, so little was I satisfied with my
production, that I laid it aside in an unfinished state, and only
found it again by mere accident among other waste papers in an
old cabinet, the drawers of which I was rummaging in order to
accommodate a friend with some fishing-tackle, after it had been
mislaid for several years. Two works upon similar subjects, by
female authors, whose genius is highly creditable to their
country, have appeared in the interval ; I mean Mrs. Hamilton's
Glenburnie, and the late account of Highland Superstitions.
But the first is confined to the rural habits of Scotland, of which
it has given a picture with striking and impressive fidelity ; and
the traditional records of the respectable and ingenious Mrs.
Grant of Laggan, are of a nature distinct from the fictitious
narrative which I have here attempted.

I would willingly persuade myself that the preceding work
wiU not be found altogether uninteresting. To elder persons it
will recaU scenes and characters familiar to their youth ; and to
VOL. I. 2 a

450

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

I

the rising generation the tale may present some idea of the
manners of their forefathers.

Yet I heartily wish that the task of tracing the evanescent
manners of his own country had employed the pen of the only
man in Scotland who could have done it justice — of him so
eminently distinguished in elegant literature — and whose sketches
of Colonel Caustic and Umphraville are perfectly blended with
the finer traits of national character. I should in that case
have had more pleasure as a reader than I shall ever feel in the
pride of a successful author, should these sheets confer upon me
that envied distinction. And as I have inverted the usual
arrangement, placing these remarks at the end of the work to
which they refer, I will venture on a second violation of form,
by closing the whole with a dedication : —

THESE VOLUMES

BEING BESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED

TO

ODE SCOTTISH ADDISON

HENEY MACKENZIE,

BY

AN UNKNOWN ADMIREE

OF

HIS QENTDS.

NOTES TO WAVEELEY.

Note A, p. 51. — Titus Livius.

The attachment to this classic was, it is said, actually displayed, ii.
the manner mentioned in the text, by an unfortunate Jacobite in that
unhappy period. He escaped from the jail in which he was confined for a
hasty trial and certain condemnation, and was retaken as he hovered
around the place in which he had been imprisoned, for which he could give
no better reason than the hope of recovering his favourite Titios Livvus.
I am sorry to add, that the simplicity of such a character was fomid to
form no apology for his guilt as a rebel, and that he was condemned and
executed.

Note B, p. 54. — Nicholas Amhurst.

Nicholas Amhurst, a noted political writer, who conducted for many
years a paper called the Craftsman, under the assumed name of Caleb
d'Anvers. He was devoted to the Tory interest, and seconded, with much
ability, the attacks of Pulteney on Sir Robert Walpole. He died in 1742,
neglected by his great patrons, and in the most miserable circumstances.

' * Amhurst survived the downfall of Walpole's power, and had reason to
expect a reward for his labours. If we excuse Bolingbroke, who had only
saved the shipwreck of his fortunes, we shall be at a loss to justify Pulteney,
who could with ease have given this man a considerable income. The
utmost of his generosity to Amhurst, that I ever heard of, was a hogshead
of claret ! He died, it is supposed, of a broken heart ; and was buried at
the charge of his honest printer, Richard Franklin." — Lord Chesterjield' &
Characters Reviewed, p. 42.

Note C, p. 57. — Colonel Gardiner.

I have now given in the text, the full name of this gallant and excellent
man, and proceed to copy the accoimt of his remarkable conversion, as
related by Dr. Doddrige.

" This memorable event," says the pious writer, " happened towards the
middle of July 1719. The major had spent the evening (and, if I mistake
not, it was the Sabbath) in some gay company, and had an unhappy
assignation with a married woman, whom he was to attend exactly at
twelve. The company broke up about eleven ; and not judging it con-
venient to anticipate the time appointed, he went into his chamber to kill
the tedious hour, perhaps with some amusing book, or some other way.

452 WAVEELEY NOVELS.

■which 1

But it very accidentally happened, that he took up a religious hook,
his good mother or aunt had, without his knowledge, slipped into his
portmanteau. It was called, if I remember the title exactly, * The Christian
Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm,' and it was written by Mr. Thomas
Watson. Guessing by the title of it that he would find some phrases of
his own profession spiritualised in a manner which he thought might afford
him some diversion, he resolved to dip into it ; but he took no serious
notice of anything it had in it ; and yet while this book was in his hand,
an impression was made upon his mind (perhaps God only knows how)
which drew after it a train of the most important and happy consequences.
He thought he saw an unusual blaze of light fall upon the book which he
was reading, which he at first imagined might happen by some accident in
the candle ; but lifting up his eyes, he apprehended to his extreme amaze-
ment, that there was before him, as it were suspended in the air, a visible
representation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross, surrounded on all
sides with a glory ; and was impressed, as if a voice, or something equiv-
alent to a voice, had come to him, to this effect (for he was not confident
as to the words), * Oh, sinner ! did I suffer this for thee, and are these thy
returns ! ' Struck with so amazing a phenomenon as this, there remained
hardly any life in him, so that he sunk down in the arm-chair in which he
sat, and continued, he knew not how long, insensible."

"With regard to this vision," says the ingenious Dr. Hibbert, "the
appearance of our Saviour on the cross, and the awful words repeated, can
be considered in no other light than as so many recollected images of the
miad, which, probably, had their origin in the language of some urgent
appeal to repentance, that the colonel might have casually read, or heard
delivered. From what cause, however, such ideas were rendered as vivid
as actual impressions, we have no information to be depended upon.
This vision was certainly attended with one of the most important of con-
sequences, connected with the Christian dispensation — the conversion of a
sinner. And hence no single narrative has, perhaps, done more to confirm
the superstitious opinion that apparitions of this awful kind cannot arise
without a divine fiat." Dr. Hibbert adds, in a note — "A short time
before the vision, Colonel Gardiner had received a severe fall from his
horse. Did the brain receive some slight degree of injury from the
accident, so as to predispose him to this spiritual illusion?" — {HiUbert's
Philosophy of Apparitions^ Edinburgh, 1824, p. 190).

Note D, p. 58. — Scottish Inns.

The courtesy of an invitation to partake a traveller's meal, or at least
that of being invited to share whatever liquor the guest called for, was
expected by certain old landlords in Scotland even in the youth of the
author. In requital, mine host was always furnished with the news of
the country, and was probably a little of a humourist to boot. The devohi-
tion of the whole actual business and drudgery of the inn upon the poor
gudewife, was very common among the Scottish Bonifaces. There was in
ancient times, in the city of Edinburgh, a gentleman of good family, who
condescended, in order to gain a livelihood, to become the nominal keeper
of a coffeehouse, one of the first places of the kind which had been opened

NOTES TO WAVEKLEY. 453

Ln the Scottish metropolis. As usual, it was entirely managed by the

careful and industrious Mrs, B ; while her husband amused himself

with field sports, without troubling his head about the matter. Once upon
a time the premises having taken fire, the husband was met, walking up
the High Street loaded with his g\ms and fishing-rods, and replied calmly
to some one who inquired after his wife, " that the poor woman was trying
to save a parcel of crockery, and some trumpery books ; " the last being
those which served her to conduct the business of the house.

There were many elderly gentlemen in the author's younger days, who
still held it part of the amusement of a journey " to parley with mine
host," who often resembled, in his quaint humour, mine Host of the
Garter in the Merry Wives of Windsor ; or Blague of the George in the
Merry Devil of Edmonton. Sometimes the landlady took her share of
entertaining the company. In either case the omitting to pay them due
attention gave displeasure, and perhaps brought down a smart jest, as on
the following occasion : —

A jolly dame who, not "Sixty Years since," kept the principal caravan-
sary at Greenlaw, in Berwickshire, had the honour to receive under her
roof a very worthy clergyman, with three sons of the same profession, each
having a cure of souls ; be it said in passing, none of the reverend party
were reckoned powerful in the pulpit. After dinner was over, the worthy
senior, in the pride of his heart, asked Mrs. Buchan whether she ever had
had such a party in^her house before. " Here sit I," he said, '* a placed min-
ister of the Kirk of Scotland, and here sit my three sons, each a placed min-
ister of the same kirk. — Confess, Luckie Buchan, you never had such a party
in your house before." The question was not premised by any invitation to
sit down and take a glass of wine or the like, so Mrs. B. answered dryly,
" Indeed, sir, I cannot just say that ever I had such a party in my house
before, except once in the forty-five, when I had a Highland piper here,
with his three sons, all Highland pipers ; and deil a spring they coidd
play arnang them."

Note E, p. 78. — Stirrup-Cup.

I may here mention, that the fashion of compotation described in the
text, was still occasionally practised in Scotland, in the author's youth.
A company, after having taken leave of their host, often went to finish the
evening at the clachan or village, in " womb of tavern," Their entertainer
always accompanied them to take the stirrup-cup, which often occasioned
a long and late revel.

The Poculum Potatorium of the valiant Baron, his blessed Bear, has a
prototype at the fine old Castle of Glammis, so rich in memorials of ancient
times ; it is a massive beaker of silver, double gilt, moulded into the
shape of a lion, and holding about an English pint of wine. The form
alludes to the family name of Strathmore, which is Lyon, and, when
exhibited, the cup must necessarily be emptied to the Earl's health. The
author ought perhaps to be ashamed of recording that he has had the
honour of swallowing the contents of the Lion ; and the recollection of
the feat served to suggest the story of the Bear of Bradwardine. In the
family of Scott of Thirlestane (not Thirlestane in the Forest, but the place
of the same name in Roxburghshire) was long preserved a cup of the same

ibi WAVERLEY NOVELS.

kind, in the form of a jackboot. Each guest was obliged to empty this at
his departiire. If the guest's name was Scott, the necessity was doubly
imperative.

When the landlord of an inn presented his guests with deoch an doruis^
that is, the drink at the door, or the stirrup-cup, the draught was not
charged in the reckoning. On this point a learned Bailie of the town of
Forfar, pronounced a very sound judgement.

A., an ale-wife in Forfar, had brewed her "peck of malt," and set the
liquor out of doors to cool ; the cow of B., a neighbour of A., chanced to
come by, and seeing the good beverage, was allured to taste it, and finally
to drink it up. When A. came to take in her liquor, she found the tub
empty, and from the cow's staggering and staring, so as to betray her
intemperance, she easily divined the mode in which her "browst" had
disappeared. To take vengeance on Crummie's ribs with a stick, was her
first effort. The roaring of the cow brought B., her master, who remon-
strated with his angry neighbour, and received in reply a demand for the
value of the ale which Crummie had drunk up. B. refused payment, and
was conveyed before C, the Bailie or sitting Magistrate. He heard the
case patiently ; and then demanded of the plaintiff A., whether the cow
had sat down to her potation, or taken it standing. The plantiff answered,
she had not seen the deed committed, but she supposed the cow drank the
ale standing on her feet ; adding, that had she been near, she would
have made her use them to some purpose. The BaUie, on this admission,
solemnly adjudged the cow's drink to be deoch an doruis — a stirrup-cup,
for which no charge could be made, without violating the ancient hospita-
lity of Scotland.

Note F, p. 110. — Black-Mail.

Mac-Donald of Barrisdale, one of the very last Highland gentlemen who
carried on the plundering system to any great extent, was a scholar and a
well-bred gentleman. He engraved on his broadswords the well-known
lines —

Hsec tibi erunt artes— pacisque imponere morem,
Parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos.

Indeed, the levying of black-mail was, before 1745, practised by several
chiefs of very high rank, who, in doing so, contended that they were lend-
ing the laws the assistance of their arms and swords, and affording a pro-
tection which could not be obtained from the magistracy in the disturbed
state of the country. The author has seen a memoir of Mac-Pherson of
Cluny, chief of that ancient clan, from which it appears that he levied
protection-money to a very large amount, which was willingly paid even
by some of his most powerful neighbours. A gentleman of this clan hear-
ing a clergyman hold forth to his congregation on the crime of theft, inter-
rupted the preacher to assure him, he might leave the enforcement of such
doctrines to Cluny Mac-Pherson, whose broadsword would put a stop tc
theft sooner than all the sermons of all the ministers of the synod.

NOTES TO WAVERLEY. 456

Note G, p. 120.— Rob Roy.

An adventure, very similar to -what is here stated, actually befel the late
Mr. Abercromby of Tullibody, gi-andfather of the present Lord Abercromby,
and father of the celebrated Sir Ralph. When this gentleman, who lived
to a very advanced period of life, first settled in Stirlingshire, his cattle
were repeatedly driven off by the celebrated Rob Roy, or some of his gang ;
and at length he was obliged, after obtaining a proper safe-conduct, to
make the Cateran such a visit as that of Waverley to Bean Lean in the
text. Rob received him with much courtesy, and made many apologies
for the accident, which must have happened, he said, through some mistake.
Mr. Abercromby was regaled with collops from two of his own cattle,
which were hung up by the heels in the cavern, and was dismissed in
perfect safety, after having agreed to pay in future a small sum of black-
mail, in consideration of which Rob Roy not only undertook to forbear his
herds in future, but to replace any that should be stolen from him by other
freebooters. Mr. Abercromby said, Rob Roy affected to consider him as
a friend to the Jacobite interest, and a sincere enemy to the Union-
Neither of these circumstances were true ; but the laird thought it quite
unnecessary to undeceive his Higliland host at the risk of bringing on a
political dispute in such a situation. This anecdote I received many years
since (about 1792) from the mouth of the venerable gentleman who was
concerned in it.

Note H, p. 127.— Kind Gallows of Crieff.

This celebrated gibbet was, in the memory of the last generation, still
standing at the western end of the town of CrieflF, in Perthshire. Why it
was called the kind gallows, we are unable to inform the reader with
certainty ; but it is alleged that the Highlanders used to touch their
bonnets as they passed a place which had been fatal to many of their
countrymen, with the ejaculation — " God bless her nain sell, and the Teil
tamn you !" It may therefore have been called kind, as being a sort of
native or kindred place of doom to those who suffered there, as in fulfil-
ment of a natural destiny.

Note T, p. 130.— Caterans.

The story of the bridegi'oom, carried off by Caterans, on his bridal-day,
is taken from one which was told to the author by the late Laird of Mac-
Nab, many years since. To carry off persons from the Lowlands, and to
put them to ransom, was a common practice with the wild Highlanders,
as it is said to be at the present day with the banditti in the south of
Italy. Upon the occasion alluded to, a party of Caterans carried off the
bridegroom, and secreted him in some cave near the mountain of Sche-
hallion. The young man caught the small-pox before his ransom could be
agreed on ; and whether it was the fine cool air of the place, or the want
of medical attendance, Mac-Nab did not pretend to be positive ; but so it
was, that the prisoner recovered, his ransom was paid, and he was restored

456 WAVEKLEY NOVELS.

to his friends and bride, but always considered the Highland robbora as
having saved his life, by their treatment of his malady.

Note K, p. 136. — Highland Policy.

This sort of political game ascribed to Mac-Ivor was in reality played by
several Highland chiefs, the celebrated Lord Lovat in particular, who used

that kind of finesse to the uttermost. The Laird of Mac was also

captain of an independent company, but valued the sweets of present pay
too well to incur the risk of losing them in the Jacobite cause. His
martial consort raised his clan, and headed it in 1745. But the chief him-
self would have nothing to do with king-making, declaring himself for that

monarch, and no other, who gave the Laird of Mac " half-a-guinea the

day, and half-a-guinea the morn."

Note L, p. 139. — Highland Discipline.

In explanation of the military exercise observed at the Castle of Glen-
naquoich, the author begs to remark, that the Highlanders were not only
well practised in the use of the broadsword, firelock, and most of the manly
sports and trials of strength, common throughout Scotland, but also used
a peculiar sort of drill, suited to their own dress and mode of warfare.
There were, for instance, different modes of disposing the plaid, — one when
on a peaceful journey, another when danger was apprehended ; one way of
enveloping themselves in it when expecting undisturbed repose, and an-
other which enabled them to start up with sword and pistol in hand on the
slightest alarm.

Previous to 1720, or thereabouts, the belted plaid was universally worn,
in which the portion which surrounded the middle of the wearer, and that
which was flung around his shoulders, were all of the same piece of tartan.
In a desperate onset, all was thrown away, and the clan charged bare
beneath the doublet, save for an artificial arrangement of the shirt, which,
like that of the Irish, was always ample, and for the sporran-mollach, or
goat's-skin purse.

The manner of handling the pistol and dirk was also part of the High-
land manual exercise, which the author has seen gone through by men who
had learned it in their youth.

Note M, p. 142. — A Scottish Dinner Table.

In the number of persons of all ranks who assembled at the same table,
though by no means to discuss the same fare, the Highland Chiefs only re-
tained a custom which had been formerly universally observed throughout
Scotland. " I myself," says the traveller Fynes Morrison, in the end of
Queen Elizabeth's reign, the scene being the Lowlands of Scotland, " was
at a knight's house, who had many servants to attend him, that brought
in his meat with their heads covered with blue caps, the table being more
than half furnished with great platters of porridge, each having a little
piece of sodden meat. And when the table was served, the servants did

NOTES TO WAVERLEY. 457

sit down with us ; but the upper mess, instead of porridge, had a pullet
with some prunes in the broth." — Travels, p. 155.

Till within this last century the farmers, even of a respectable condition,
dined with their work-people. The difference betwixt those of high degree
was ascertained by the place of the party above or below the salt, or some-
times by a line drawn with chalk on the dining-table. Lord Lovat, who
knew well how to feed the vanity and restrain the appetites of his clans-
men, allowed each sturdy Eraser, who had the slightest pretension to he
a Duinh^-wassel, the full honour of the sitting, but, at the same time,
took care that his young kinsmen did not acquire at his table any taste foi
outlandish luxiu'ies. His Lordship was always ready with some honour-
able apology why foreign wines and French brandy— -delicacies which he
conceived might sap the hardy habits of his cousins — should not circulate
past an assigned point on the table.

Note N, p. 150. — " Conan the Jester."

In the Irish ballads relating to Fion, (the Fingal of Mac-Pherson,)
there occurs, as in the primitive poetiy of most nations, a cycle of heroes,
each of whom has some distinguishing attribute : upon these qualities, and
the adventures of those possessing them, many proverbs are formed, which
are still current in the Highlands. Among other characters, Conan is
distingmshed as in some respects a kind of Thersites, but brave and daring
even to rashness. He had made a vow that he would never take a blow
without returning it ; and having, like other heroes of antiquity, descended
to the infernal regions, he received a cuff from the Arch-fiend, who presided
there, which he instantly returned, using the expression in the text.
Sometimes the proverb is worded thus : — " Claw for claw, and the devil
take the shortest nails, as Conan said to the devil. "

Note 0, p. 153. — "Waterfall."

The description of the waterfall mentioned in this chapter is taken
from that of Ledeard, at the farm so called on the northern side of Lochard,
and near the head of the Lake, four or five miles from Aberfoyle. It is
upon a small scale, but otherwise one of the most exquisite cascades it is
possible to behold. The appearance of Flora with the hai-p, as described,
has been justly censured as too theatrical and affected for the lady -like
simplicity of her character. But something may be allowed to her French
education, in which point and striking effect always make a considerable
object.

Note P, p. 250. — Mac-Farlane's Lantern.

The clan of Mac-Farlane, occupying the fastnesses of the western side
of Loch Lomond, were great depredators on the Low Country ; and as their
excursions were made usually by night, the moon was proverbially called
their lantern. Their celebrated pibroch of Uoggil nam Bo^ which is the
name of their gathering tune, intimates similar practices, — the sense being —

458 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

We are bound to drive the bullocks,
All by hollows, hirsts, and hillocks,

Through the sleet and through the rain
When the moon is beaming low
On frozen lake and hills of snow,
Bold and heartily we go ;

And all for little gain.

Note Q, p. 252. — Castle of Doune.

This noble ruin is dear to my recollection, from associations which have
been long and painfully broken. It holds a commanding station on the
banks of the river Teith, and has been one of the largest castles in Scotland.
Murdock, Duke of Albany, the founder of this stately pile, was beheaded
on the Castle-hiU of Stirling, from which he might see the towers of Doune,
the monument of his fallen greatness.

In 1745-6, as stated in the text, a garrison on the part of the Chevalier
was put into the castle, then less ruinous than at present. It was com-
manded by Mr. Stewart of Balloch, as governor for Prince Charles ; he was
a man of property near Callander. This castle became at that time the
actual scene of a romantic escape made by John Home, the author of
Douglas, and some other prisoners, who, having been taken at the battle
of Falkirk, were confined there by the insurgents. The poet, who had in
his own mind a large stock of that romantic and enthusiastic spirit of
adventure, which he has described as animating the youthful hero of his
drama, devised and undertook the perilous enterprise of escaping from his
prison. He inspired his companions with his sentiments, and when every
attempt at open force was deemed hopeless, they resolved to twist their
bed-clothes into ropes, and thus to descend. Four persons, with Home
himself, reached the ground in safety. But the rope broke with the fifth,
who was a tall lusty man. The sixth was Thomas Barrow, a brave young
Englishman, a particular friend of Home's. Determined to take the risk,
even in such unfavourable circumstances, Barrow committed himself to the
broken rope, slid down on it as far as it could assist him, and then let
himself drop. His friends beneath succeeded in breaking his fall. Never-
theless, he dislocated his ankle, and had several of his ribs broken. His
companions, however, were able to bear him oflF in safety.

The Highlanders next morning sought for their prisoners with great
activity. An old gentleman told the author he remembered seeing the
commander Stewart,

Bloody with spurring, fiery red with haste,
riding furiously through the country in quest of the fugitives.

Note R, p. 263. — Jacobite Sentiments.

The Jacobite sentiments were general among the western counties, and
in Wales. But although the great families of the Wynnes, the Wyndhams,
and others, had come under an actual obligation to join Prince Charles if he
should land, they had done so under the express stipidation, that he should

NOTES TO WAVERLEY. 459

1)^ jissisted by an auxiliary army of French, without which they foresaw the
enterprise would be desperate. Wishing well to his cause, therefore, and
watching an opportunity to join hun, they did not, nevertheless, think them-
selves bound in honour to do so, as he was only supported by a body ot
wild mountaineers, speaking an uncouth dialect, and wearing a singular dress.
The race up to Derby struck them with more dread than admiration. But
it was difficult to say what the effect might have been, had either the battle
of Preston or Falkirk being fought and won during the advance into
England.

Note S, p. 266. — Irish Officers.

Divisions early showed themselves in the Chevalier's little army, not
only amongst the independent chieftains, who were far too proud to brook
subjection to each other, but betwixt the Scotch and Charles's governor
O'Sullivan, an Irishman hy birth, who, with some of his countrymen bred
in the Irish Brigade in the service of the King of France, had an influence
with the Adventurer, much resented by the Highlanders, who were sensible
that their own clans made the chief or rather the only strength of his enter-
prise. There was a feud, also, between Lord George Murray and James
Murray of Broughton, the Prince's secretary, whose disunion greatly
embarrassed the affairs of the Adventiu"er. In general, a thousand different
pretensions divided their little army, and finally contributed in no small
degree to its overthrow.

Note T, p. 291. — Field-piece in the Highland Army.

This circumstance, which is historical, as well as the description that
precedes it, will remind the reader of the war of La Vendue, in which the
royalists, consisting chiefly of insurgent peasantry, attached a prodigious
and even superstitious interest to the possession of a piece of brass ordnance,
which they called Maria Jeanne.

The Highlanders of an early period were afraid of cannon, with the noise
and effect of which they were totally unacquainted. It was by means of
three or four small pieces of artUlery that the Earls of Hiintly and Errol,
in James VI. 's time, gained a great victory at Glenlivat, over a numerous
Highland army commanded by the Earl of Argyle. At the battle of the
Bridge of Dee, General Middleton obtained by his artillery a similar
success, the Highlanders not being able to stand the discharge of Musket's-
Mother, which was the name they bestowed on great guns. In an old
ballad on the battle of the Bridge of Dee, these verses occur ; —

The Highlandmen are pretty men

For handling sword and shield,
But yet they are but simple men

To stand a stricken field.

The Highlandmen are pretty men

For target and claymore.
But yet they are but naked men

To face the cannon's roar.

460

WAVEELEY NOVELS.

For the cannons roar on a summer ni«jht,

Tjike thunder in the air ;
Was never man in Highland garb

Would face the cannon fair.

But the Highlanders of 1745 had got far beyond the simplicity of their
forefatheis, and showed throughout the whole war how little they dreaded
artillery, although the common people still attached some consequence to
the possession of the field-piece which led to this disquisition.

Note U, p. 302. — Anderson op Whitbuegh.

The faithful friend who pointed out the pass by which the Highlanders
moved from Tranent to Seaton, was Eobert Anderson junior, of Whitburgh,
a gentleman of property in East Lothian. He had been interrogated by
the Lord George Murray concerning the possibility of crossing the uncouth
and marshy piece of ground which divided the armies, and which he de-
scribed as impracticable. When dismissed, he recollected that there was a
circuitous path leading eastward through the marsh into the plain, by
which the Highlanders might turn the flank of Sir John Cope's position,
without being exposed to the enemy's fire. Having mentioned his opinion
to Mr. Hepburn of Keith, who instantly saw its importance, he was
encouraged by that gentleman to awake Lord George Murray, and com-
municate the idea to him. Lord George received the information with
grateful thanks, and instantly awakened Prince Charles, who was sleeping
in the field with a bunch of peas under his head. The Adventurer re-
ceived with alacrity the news that there was a possibility of bringing an
excellently provided army to a decisive battle with his own irregular forces.
His joy on the occasion was not very consistent with the charge of cowardice
brought against him by Chevalier Johnstone, a discontented follower,
whose Memoirs possess at least as much of a romantic as a historical char-
acter. Even by the account of the Chevalier himself, the Prince was at
the head of the second line of the Highland army during the battle, of
which he says, " It was gained with such rapidity, that in the second line,
where I was still by the side of the Prince, we saw no other enemy than
those who were lying on the ground killed and wounded, though we were
not more than fifty paces behind our first line, running always as fast as
we could to overtake them"

This passage in the Chevalier's Memoirs places the Prince within fifty
paces of the heat of the battle, a position which would never have been the
choice of one unwilling to take a share of its dangers. Indeed, unless tho
chiefs had complied vnth the yoimg Adventurer's proposal to lead the van
in person, it does not appear that he could have been deeper in the action.

Note V, p. 306. — Death of Colonel Gardiner.

The death of this good Christian and gallant man is thus given by his afPec-
tionate biographer Dr. Doddridge, from the evidence of eye-witnesses : —

"He continued all night under arms, wrapped up in his cloak, and
generally sheltered under a rick of barley, which happened to be in the

NOTES TO WAVERLEY. 461

field. About three in the mornmg he called his domestic servants to him,
of which there were four in waiting. He dismissed three of them with
most affectionate Christian advice, and such solemn charges relating to the
performance of their duty, and the care of their souls, as seemed plainly to
intimate that he apprehended it was at least very probable he was taking
his last farewell of them. There is great reason to believe that lie spent
the little remainder of the time, which could not be much above an hour,
in those devout exercises of soul which had been so long habitual to him,
and to which so many circumstances did then concur to call him. The
army was alarmed by break of day, by the noise of the rebels' approach,
and the attack was made before sunrise, yet when it was light enough to
discern what passed. As soon as the enemy came within gun-shot they
made a furious fire ; and it is said that the dragoons which constituted the
left wing immediately fled. The Colonel at the beginning of the onset,
which in the whole lasted but a few minutes, received a woimd by a bullet
in his left breast, which made him give a sudden spring in his saddle ;
upon which his servant, who led the horse, would have persuaded him to
retreat, but he said it was only a wound in the flesh, and fought on, though
he presently after received a shot in his right thigh. In the meantime, it
was discerned that some of the enemy fell by him, and particularly one
man, who had made him a treacherous visit but a few days before, with
great profession of zeal for the present establishment.

" Events of this kind pass in less time than the description of them can
be written, or than it can be read. The Colonel was for a few moments
supported by his men, and particularly by that worthy person Lieutenant-
Colonel Whitney, who was shot through the arm here, and a few months
after fell nobly at the battle of Falkirk, and by Lieutenant West, a man
of distinguished bravery, as also by about fifteen dragoons, who stood by
him to the last. But after a faint fire, the regiment in general was seized
with a panic ; and though their Colonel and some other gallant oflScers
did what they could to rally them once or twice, they at last took a preci-
pitate flight. And just in the moment when Colonel Gardiner seemed to
be making a pause to deliberate what duty required him to do in such cir-
cumstances, an accident happened, which must, I think, in the judgment
of every worthy and generous man, be allowed a sufficient apology for ex-
posing his life to so great hazard, when his regiment had left him. He
saw a party of the foot, who were then bravely fighting near him, and
whom he was ordered to support, had no officer to head them ; upon which
he said eagerly, in the hearing of the person from whom I had this accoimt,
* These brave fellows will be cut to pieces for want of a commander,* or
words to that effect ; which while he was speaking, he rode iip to them
and cried out, * Fire on, my lads, and fear nothing. ' But just as the words
were out of his mouth, a Highlander advanced towards him with a scythe
fastened to a long pole, with which he gave him so dreadful a wound on
his right arm, that his sword dropped out of his hand ; and at the same
time several others coming about him whUe he was thus dreadfully entangled
with that cruel weapon, he was dragged ofi" from his horse. The moment
he fell, another Highlander, who, if the king's evidence at Carlisle may be
credited (as I know not why they should not, though the imhappy creature
died denying it), was one Mac-Naught, who was executed about a year
after, gave him a stroke either with a broadsword or a Lochaber-axe (foi

4:62 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

my infonnant could not exactly distinguish) on the hinder part of his head,
which was the mortal blow. All that his faithful attendant saw further at
this time was, that as his hat was falling off, he took it in his left hand
and waved it as a signal to him to retreat, and added what were the last
words he ever heard him speak, * Take care of yourself ; ' upon which the
servant retired."

Some remarkable Passages in the Life of Colonel James Gardiner, by P.
Doddridge, D.JD. London, 1747, p. 187.

I may remark on this extract, that it confirms the account given in the
text of the resistance offered by some of the English infantry. Surprised
by a force of a peculiar and unusual description, their opposition could not
be long or formidable, especially as they were deserted by the cavalry, and
those who undertook to manage the artillery. But although the affair was
soon decided, I have always understood that many of the infantry showed
an inclination to do their duty.

Note W, p. 306. — The Laird of Balmawhapple.

It is scarcely necessary to say that the character of this brutal yoimg
Laird is entirely imaginary. A gentleman, however, who resembled Balma-
whapple in the article of courage only, fell at Preston in the manner
described. A Perthshire gentleman of high honour and respectability, one
of the handful of cavalry who followed the fortunes of Charles Edward,
pursued the fugitive dragoons almost alone tUl near Saint Clement's Wells,
where the efforts of some of the officers had prevailed on a few of them to
make a momentary stand. Perceiving at this moment that they were
pursued by only one man and a couple of servants, they turned upon him
and cut him down with their swords. I remember, when a child, sitting
on his grave, where the gi-ass long grew rank and green, distinguishing it
from the rest of the field. A female of the family then residing at Saint
Clement's Wells used to tell me the tragedy of which she had been an eye-
witness, and showed me in evidence one of the silver clasps of the un-
fortunate gentleman's waistcoat.

Note X, p, 318. — Andrea di Ferrara.

The name of Andrea di Ferrara is inscribed on all the Scottish broad-
swords which are accounted of peculiar excellence. Who this artist was,
what were his fortunes, and when he flourished, have hitherto defied the
research of antiquaries ; only it is in general believed that Andrea di Fer-
rara was a Spanish or Italian artificer, brought over by James IV. or
V. to instruct the Scots in the manufacture of sword blades. Most bar-
barous nations excel in the fabrication of arms ; and the Scots had attained
great proficiency in forging swords, so early as the field of Pinkie j at
which period the historian Patten describes them as " all notably broad
and thin, universally made to slice, and of such exceeding good temper,
that as I never saw any so good, so I think it hard to devise better.—
{Account of Somerset's Expedition.)

It may be observed, that the best and most genuine Andrea Ferraras
have a crown marked on the blades.

NOTES TO WAVEIILEY. 463

Note Y, p. 322.— Miss Naibne.

The incident here said to have happened to Flora Mac-Ivor, actually
befell Miss Naime, a lady with whom the author had the pleasure of being
acquainted. As the Highland army rushed into Edinburgh, Miss Naime,
like other ladies who approved of their cause, stood waving her handkerchief
from a balcony, when a ball from a Highlander's musket, which was dis^
charged by accident, grazed her forehead. '* Thank God," said she, the
instant she recovered, " that the accident happened to me, whose principles
are known. Had it befallen a Whig they would have said it was done on
purpose. "

Note Z, p. 364. — Prince Chables Edward.

The Author of Waverley has been charged with painting the yoimg
Adventurer in colours more amiable than his character deserved. But
having known many individuals who were near his person, he has been
described according to the light in which those eye-witnesses saw his temper
and qualifications. Something must be allowed, no doubt, to the natural
exaggerations of those who remembered him as the bold and adventurous
Prince, in whose cause they had braved death and ruin; but is their
evidence to give place entirely to that of a single malcontent ?

I have already noticed the imputations thrown by the Chevalier John-
stone on the Prince's courage. But some part at least of that gentleman's
tale is purely romantic. It would not, for instance, be supposed, that at
the time he is favouring us with the highly-wrought account of his amour
with the adorable Peggie, the Chevalier Johnstone was a married man,
whose grandchild is now alive, or that the whole circumstantial story con-
cerning the outrageous vengeance taken by Gordon of Abbachie on a
Presbyterian clergyman, is entirely apocryphal. At the same time it may
be admitted, that the Prince, like others of his family, did not esteem the
services done him by his adherents so highly as he ought. Educated in
high ideas of his hereditary right, he has been supposed to have held every
exertion and sacrifice made in his cause as too much the duty of the person
making it, to merit extravagant gratitude on his part. Dr. King's evidence
(which his leaving the Jacobite interest renders somewhat doubtful) goes
to strengthen this opinion.

The ingenious editor of Johnstone's Memoirs has quoted a story said to
be told by Helvetius, stating that Prince Charles Edward, far from volun-
tarily embarking on his daring expedition, was literally bound hand and
foot, and to which he seems disposed to yield credit. Now, it being a fact
as well known as any in his history, and, so far as I know, entirely undis-
puted, that the Prince's personal entreaties and virgency positively forced
Boisdale and Lochiel into insurrection, when they were earnestly desirous
that he would put off his attempt until he could obtain a sufficient force
from France, it will be very difiicult to reconcile his alleged reluctance to
undertake the expedition, with his desperately insisting on carrying the
rising into effect, against the advice and entreaty of his most powerful and
most sage partisans. Surely a man who had been carried bound on board
the vessel which brought him to so desperate an enterprise, would have

464 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

taken the opportunity afforded by the reluctance of his partisans, to return
to France in safety.

It is averred in Johnstone's Memoirs, that Charles Edward left the field
of Culloden without doing the utmost to dispute the victory ; and, to give
the evidence on both sides, there is in existence the more trustworthy
testimony of Lord Elcho, who states, that he himself earnestly exhorted
the Prince to charge at the head of the left wing, which was entire, and
retrieve the day or die with honour. And on his counsel being declined,
Lord Elcho took leave of him with a bitter execration, swearing he would
never look on his face again, and kept his word.

On the other hand, it seems to have been the opinion of almost aU the
other officers, that the day was irretrievably los-t, one wing of the High-
landers being entirely routed, the rest of the army out-numbered, out-
flanked, and in a condition totally hopeless. In this situation of things,
the Jrish officers who surrounded Charles's person interfered to force him
off the field. A comet who was close to the Prince, left a strong attest-
ation, that he had seen Sir Thomas Sheridan seize the bridle of his horse,
and turn him round. There is some discrepancy of evidence ; but the
opinion of Lord Elcho, a man of fiery temper, and desperate at the ruin
which he beheld impending, cannot fairly be taken, in prejudice of a
character for courage which is intimated by the nature of the enterprise
itself, by the Prince's eagerness to fight on all occasions, by his determin-
ation to advance from Derby to London, and by the presence of mind which
he manifested during the romantic perils of his escape. The Author is far
from claiming for this unfortunate person the praise due to splendid talents ;
but he continues to be of opinion, that at the period of his enterprise, he
had a mind capable of facing danger and aspiring to fame.

That Charles Edward had the advantages of a graceful presence, courtesy,
and an address and manner becoming his station, the author never heard
disputed by any who approached his person, nor does he conceive that these
qualities are over-charged in the present attempt to sketch his portrait.
The following extracts corroborative of the general opinion respecting the
Prince's amiable disposition, are taken from a manuscript account of his
romantic expedition, by James Maxwell of Kirkconnell, of which I possess
a copy, by the friendship of J. Menzies, Esq. of Pitfoddells. The author,
though partial to the Prince, whom he faithfully followed, seems to have
been a fair and candid man, and well acquainted with the intrigues among
the Adventui-er's council : —

" Everybody was mightily taken with the Prince's figure and personal
behaviour. There was but one voice about them. Those whom interest
or prejudice made a runaway to his cause, could not help acknowledging
that they wished him well in all other respects, and could hardly blamo
him for his present undertaking. Sundry things had concurred to raise
his character to the highest pitch, besides the greatness of the enterprise,
and the conduct that had hitherto appeared in the execution of it. There
were several instances of good-nature and humanity that had made a great
impression on people's minds. I shall confine myself to two or three.
Immediately after the battle, as the Prince was riding along the ground
that Cope's army had occupied a few minutes before, one of the officers
came up to congratulate him, and said, pointing to the killed, * Sir, there
are your enemies at your feet' The Prince, far from exulting, expressed

NOTES TO WAVERLEY. 466

a great deal of compassion for his father's deluded subjects, whom he
declared he was heartily soiTy to see in that posture. Next day, while
the Prince was at Pinkie-house, a citizen of Edinburgh came to make
some representation to Secretary Murray about the tents that city was
ordered to furnish against a certain day. Murray happened to be out
of the way, which the Prince hearing of, called to have the gentleman
brought to him, saying, he would rather despatch the business, whatever
it was, himself, than have the gentleman wait, which he did, by grant-
ing everything that was asked. So much affability in a young prince,
flushed with victory, drew encomiums even from his enemies. But what
gave the people the highest idea of him, was the negative he gave to a
thing that very nearly concerned his interest, and upon which the success
of his enterprise perhaps depended. It was proposed to send one of the
prisoners to London, to demand of that court a cartel for the exchange of
prisoners taken, and to be taken, during this war, and to intimate that a
refusal would be looked upon as a resolution on their part to give no quar-
ter. It was visible a cartel would be of great advantage to the Prince's
affairs ; his friends would be more ready to declare for him if they had
nothing to fear but the chance of war in the field ; and if the court of
London refused to settle a cartel, the Prince was authorised to treat his
prisoners in the same manner the Elector of Hanover was determined to
treat such of the Prince's friends as might fall into his hands : it was
urged that a few examples would compel the court of London to comply.
It was to be presumed that the officers of the English army would make a
point of it. They had never engaged in the service, but upon such terms
as are in use among all civilised nations, and it could be no stain upon
their honour to lay down their commissions if these terms were not observed,
and that owing to the obstinacy of their own Prince. Though this scheme
was plausible, and represented as very important, the Prince could never be
brought into it ; it was below him, he said, to make empty threats, and he
would never put such as those into execution ; he would never in cold
blood take away lives which he had saved in heat of action, at the peril of
his own. These were not the only proofs of good nature the Prince gave
about this tim^e. Every day produced something new of this kind. These
things softened the rigour of a military government, which was only im-
puted to the necessity of his affairs, and which he endeavoured to make as
gentle and easy as possible."

It has been said, that the Prince sometimes exacted more state and cere-
monial than seemed to suit his condition ; but, on the other hand, some
strictness of etiquette was altogether indispensable where he must other-
wise have been exposed to general intrusion. He could also endure, with
a good grace, the retorts which his affectation of ceremony sometimes ex-
posed him to. It is said, for example, that Grant of Glenmoriston having
made a hasty march to join Charles, at the head of his clan, rushed into
the Prince's presence at Holyrood, with unceremonious haste, without
having attended to the duties of the toilet. The Prince received him kindly,
but not without a hint that a previous interview with the barber might not
have been wholly unnecessary. " It is not beardless boys," answered the
displeased Chief, "who are to do your Royal Highness's turn." The
Chevalier took the rebuke in good part.

On the whole, if Prince Charles had concluded his life soon after his
VOL. I. 2 I{

466

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

miraculous escape, his character in history must have stood very high. As
it was, his station is amongst those, a certain brilliant portion of whose liff
forms a remarkable contrast to all which precedes, and all which follows it

Note A A, p. 370. — The Skirmish at Clifton.

The following account of the skirmish at Clifton is extracted fiwm ttie
manuscript Memoirs of Evan Macpherson of Cluny, Chief of the clan Mao-
pherson, who had the merit of supporting the principal brunt of that
spirited affair. The Memoirs appear to have been composed about 1755,
only ten years after the action had taken place. They were written in ]
Prance, where that gallant Chief resided in exile, which accounts for some-
Gallicisms which occur in the narrative.

" In the Prince's return from Derby back towards Scotland, my Lord '
George MuiTay, Lieutenant-General, cheerfully charg'd himself with the-
command of the rear ; a post, which, altho' honourable, was attended withj
great danger, many difficulties, and no small fatigue ; for the Prince being;
apprehensive that his retreat to Scotland might be cut off by Marischafi'
Wade, who lay to the northward of him with an armie much supperior to'
what H. R. H. had, while the Duke of Comberland with his whole cavalrie
followed hard in the rear, was obliged to hasten his marches. It was notj
therefore, possible for the artilirie to march so fast as the Prince's armie,
in the depth of winter, extremely bad weather, and the worst roads in
England ; so Lord George Murray was obliged often to continue his marches
long after it was dark almost every night, while at the same time he had
frequent allarms and disturbances from the Duke of Comberland's advanc'd
parties. Towards the evening of the twentie-eight December 1745, the ,
Prince entered the town of Penrith, in the province of Comberland. But !
as Lord George Murray could not bring up the artilirie so fast as he wou'di
have wish'd, he was obliged to pass the night six miles short of that town,
together with the regiment of MacDonel of Glengarrie, which that day hap-
pened to have the arrear guard. The Prince, in order to refresh his armie,
and to give My Lord George and the artilirie time to come up, resolved to
sejour the 29th at Penrith ; so ordered his little army to appear in the
morning under arms, in order to be reviewed, and to know in what mannef
the numbers stood from his haveing entered England. It did not at that
time amount to 5000 foot in all, with about 400 cavalrie, composed of the,
noblesse who serv'd as volunteers, part of whom form'd a first troop of
guards for the Prince, under the command of My Lord Elchoe, now Comte, ,
de Weems, who, being proscribed, is presently in France. Another part,
formed a second troup of guards under the command of My Lord Balmirino,|]
who was beheaded at the Tower of London- A third part serv'd under My'
Lord le Comte de Kilmarnock, who was likewise beheaded at the Tower.
A fourth part serv'd under My Lord Pitsligow, who is also proscribed ;
which cavalrie, tho' very few in numbers, being all Noblesse, were very
brave, and of infinite advantage to the foot, not only in the day of battle,
but in serving as advanced guards on the several marches, and in patroling
dureing the night od the different roads which led towards the towns where
the army happened to quarter.

" While thia small army was out in a body on the 29th December, upon

NOTES TO WAVERLEY. 467

a rising ground to the northward of Penrith, passing renew, Mons de
Cluny, with his tribe, was ordered to the Bridge of Clifton, about a mile to
southward of Penrith, after having pass'd in review before Mons Patullo,
who was charged with the inspection of the troops, and was likewise
Quarter-Master General of the army, and is now in France. They remained
under arms at the Bridge, waiting the arrival of My Lord George Murray
with the artilirie, whom Mons. de Cluny had orders to cover in passing the
bridge. They arrived about sunsett closely pursued by the Duke of
Comberland with the whole body of his cavalrie, reckoned upwards of 3000
strong, about a thousand of whom, as near as might be computed, dis-
mounted, in order to cut off the passage of the artilirie towards the bridge,
while the Duke and the others remained on horseback in order to attack
the rear. My Lord George Murray advanced, and although he found
Mons. de Cluny and hia tribe in good spirits mider arms, yet the circum-
stance appear' d extremely delicate. The numbers were vastly imequall,
and the attack seem'd very dangerous ; so My Lord George declin'd giving
orders to such time as he ask'd Mons. de Cluny's oppinion. * I will attack
them with all my heart,' says Mons. de Cluny, * if you order me.' * I do
order it then,' answered My Lord George, and immediately went on himself
along with Mons. de Cluny, and fought sword in hand on foot, at the head
of the single tribe of Macphersons. They in a moment made their way
through a strong hedge of thorns, under the cover whereof the cavalrie had
taken their station, in the struggle of passing which hedge My Lord
George Murray, being dressed en montagnard, as all the army were, lost
his bonet and wig ; so continued to fight bear-headed during the action.
They at first made a brisk discharge of theii* fire-arms on the enemy, then
attacked them with their sabres, and made a great slaughter a considerable
time, which obliged Comberland and his cavalrie to fly with precipitation
and in great confusion ; in so much, that if the Prince had been provided
in a sufiicient number of cavalrie to have taken advantage of the disorder,
it is beyond question that the Duke of Comberland and the bulk of his
cavalrie had been taken prisoners. By this time it was so dark that it was
not possible to view or number the slain, who filled all the ditches which
happened to be on the ground where they stood. But it was computed
that, besides those who went off wounded, upwards of a hundred at least
were left on the spot, among whom was Colonel Honeywood, who com-
manded the dismounted cavalrie, whose sabre of considerable value Mons.
de Cluny brought off and still preserves ; and his tribe lykeways brought
off many anns ; — the Colonel was afterwards taken up, and, his wounds
being dress'd, with great difiicultie recovered. Mons. de Climy lost only
in the action twelve men, of whom some haveing been only wounded, fell
afterwards into the hands of the enemy, and were sent as slaves to America,
whence several of them returned, and one of them is now in France, a
Serjeant in the Regiment of Royal Scots. How soon the accounts of the
enemie's approach had reached the Prince, H.RH. had immediately ordered
Mi-Lord le Comte de Naime, Brigadier, who, being proscribed, is now in
France, with the three batalions of the Duke of Athol, the batalion of the
Duke of Perth, and some other troups under his command, in order to sup-
port Cluny, and to bring off the artilirie. But the action was intirely over
before the Comte de Naime, with his command, cou'd reach nigh to the
place. They therefore returo'd all to Penrith, and the artilirie marched

468 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

up in good order. Nor did the Duke of Comberland ever afterwards dare
to come within a day's march of the Prince and his army dureiug the course
of all that retreat, which was conducted with gi-eat prudence and safety
when in some manner surrounded by enemies."

Note B B, p. 383.— Oath upon the Dirk.

As the heathen deities contracted an indelible obligation if they swore b^
Styx, the Scottish Highlanders had usually some peculiar solemnity attached
to an oath which they intended should be binding on them. Very fre-
quently it consisted in laying their hand, as they swore, on their own drawn
dirk ; which dagger, becoming a party to the transaction, was invoked to
punish any breach of faith. But by whatever ritual the oath was sanctioned,
the party was extremely desirous to keep secret what the especial oath was,
which he considered as irrevocable. This was a matter of great convenience,
as he felt no scrapie in breaking his asseveration when made in any other
form than that which he accounted as peculiarly solemn ; and therefore
readily granted any engagement which bound him no longer than he inclined.
Whereas, if the oath which he accounted inviolable was once publicly
known, no party with whom he might have occasion to contract would have
rested satisfied with any other, Louis XL of France practised the same
sophistry, for he also had a peculiar species of oath, the only one which he
was ever known to respect, and which, therefore, he was very xmwilling to
pledge. The only engagement which that wily tjTant accounted binding
upon him was an oath by the Holy Cross of Saint Lo d' Angers, which con-
tained a portion of the True Cross. If he prevaricated after taking this
oath, Louis believed he should die within the year. The Constable Saint
Paul, being invited to a personal conference with Louis, refused to meet
the king unless he would agree to ensure him safe conduct under sanction
of this oath. But, says Comines, the king replied, he would never again
pledge that engagement to mortal man, though he was willing to take any
other oath which could be devised. The treaty broke off, therefore, aftei
much chaffering concerning the nature of the vow which Louis was to take.
Such is the difference between the dictates of superstition and those of
conscience.

NOTES TO WAVERLEY.

469

NOTE TO PREFACE, THIRD EDITION, p. 4.

A homely metrical narrative of the events of the period, which contains
some striking particulars, and is still a great favourite with the lower
classes, gives a very correct statement of the behaviour of the mountaineers
respecting this same military license ; and as the verses are little known,
and contain some good sense, we venture to insert them.

THE author's address TO ALL IN GENERAL.

Now, gentle readers, I have let 3'ou ken
My very thoughts, from heart and pen,
Tis needless for to conten'

Or yet controule.
For there's not a word o't I can men' —

So ye must thole.

For on both sides, some were not good ;
I saw them murd'ring in cold blood,
Not the gentlemen, but wild and rude,

The baser sort.
Who to the wounded had no mood

But murd'ring sport I

Ev'n both at Preston and Falkirk,
That fatal night ere it grew mirk.
Piercing the wounded with their durk,

Caused many cry 1
Such pity's shown from Savage and Turk

As peace to die.

A woe be to such hot zeal.

To smite the wounded on the fiell !

It's just they got such groats in kail,

V\Tio do the same.
It only teaches crueltys real

To them again.

I've seen the men caU'd Highland Rogues,
With Lowland men make shangs a brogs.
Sup kail and brose, and fling the cogs

Out at the door,
Take cocks, hens, sheep, and hogs.

And pay nought for.

I saw a Highlander, 'twas right drole.
With a string of puddings hung on a pole,
Wliipp'd o'er his shoulder, skipped like
a fole,

Caus'd Maggy bann.
Lap o'er the midden and midden-hole,

And aff he ran.

When check'd for this, they'd often tell

ye—
Indeed ?ier nainsell's a tume belly ;
You'llnogie't wanting bought,norsellme;

Hersell will hae't ;
do tell King Shorge, and Shordy's Willie.

I'll hae a meat

I saw the soldiers at Linton-brig,
Because the man was not a Whig,
Of meat and drink leave not a skig,

Within his door ;
They burnt his very hat and wig,

And thump'd him sora

And through the Highlands they were so

rude.
As leave them neither clothes nor food.
Then burnt their houses to conclude ;

'Twas tit for tat.
How can Jier nainsell e'er be good,

To think on that?

And after all, O shame and grief I

To use some worse than murd'ring thiefi

Their very gentleman and chief,

Unhumanly !
Like Popish tortures, I believe.

Such cruelty.

Ev'n what was act on open stage
At Carlisle, in the hottest rage,
When mercy was clapt in a cage,

And pity dead.
Such cruelty approv'd by every age,

I shook my head.

So many to curse, so few to pray,
And some aloud huzza did cry ;
They cursed the rebel Scots that day.

As they'd been nowt
Brought up for slaughter, as that way

Too many rowt.

Therefore, alas ! dear countrymen,

O never do the like again,

To thirst for vengeance, never ben'

Tour gun nor pa'.
But with the English e'en borrow and leu'

Let anger fa'.

There boasts and bullying, not worth n

louse,
As our King's the best about the house
'Tis aye good to be sober and douce,

To live in peace ;
For many, I see, for being o'er cronse,
Gets broken face.

APPENDIX.

GENERAL PREFACE, p. 8, No. I.*

FRAGMENT OF A ROMANCE WHICH WAS TO HAVE BEEN ENTITLED

THOMAS THE RHYMER.

Chapter First.

The sun was nearly set behind the distant mountains of Liddesdale, when
a few of the scattered and terrified inhabitants of the village of Hersildoune,
which had four days before been burned by a predatory band of English
Borderers, were now busied in repairing their ruined dwellings. One high
tower in the centre of the village alone exhibited no appearance of devasta-
tion. It was surrounded with court walls, and the outer gate was barred
and bolted. The bushes and brambles which grew around, and had even
insinuated their branches beneath the gate, plainly showed that it must
have been many years since it had been opened. While the cottages
around lay in smoking ruins, this pile, deserted and desolate as it seemed
to be, had suffered nothing from the violence of the invaders ; and the
wretched beings who were endeavouring to repair their miserable huts
against nightfall, seemed to neglect the preferable shelter which it might
have afforded them, without the necessity of labour.

Before the day had quite gone down, a knight, richly armed, and
mounted upon an ambling hackney, rode slowly into the village. His
attendants were a lady, apparently young and beautiful, who rode by his
side upon a dappled palfrey ; his squire, who carried his helmet and lance,
and led his battle-horse, a noble steed, richly caparisoned. A page and
four yeomen, bearing bows and quivers, short swords, and targets of
a span breadth, completed his equipage, which, though small, denoted him
to be a man of high rank.

He stopped and addressed several of the inhabitants whom curiosity had
withdrawn from their labour to gaze at him ; but at the soimd of his voice,
and still more on perceiving the St. George's Cross in the caps of his
followers, they fled, with a loud cry, " that the Southrons were returned."

♦ It is not to be supposed that these fragments are given as possessing any in-
trinsic value of themselves ; but there may be some curiosity attached to them, as
to the first etchings of a plate, which are accounted interesting by those who have,
In. any degree, been interested in the more finished works of the jutist.

APPENDIX TO GENERAL PREFACE. 471

The knight endeavoured to expostulate with the fugitives, who were chiefly
aged men, women, and children ; but their dread of the English name ac-
celerated their flight, and in a few minutes, excepting the knight and his
attendants, the place was deserted by all. He paced through the village
to seek a shelter for the night, and despairing to find one either in the in-
accessible tower, or the plundered huts of the peasantry, he directed his
course to the left hand, where he spied a small decent habitation, appa-
rently the abode of a man considerably above the common rank. After
much knocking, the proprietor at length showed himself at the window,
and speaking in the English dialect, with great signs of apprehension, de-
manded their business. The warrior replied, that his quality was an
English knight and baron, and that he was travelling to the court of the
King of Scotland on affairs of consequence to both kingdoms.

" Pardon my hesitation, noble Sir Knight," said the old man, as he un-
bolted and unbarred his doors — " Pardon my hesitation, but we are here
exposed to too many intrusions, to admit of our exercising unlimited and
unsuspicious hospitality. What I have is yours ; and God send your
mission may bring back peace and the good days of our old Queen
Margaret !"

" Amen, worthy Franklin," quoth the Knight — " Did you know her ? "

" I came to this country in her train," said the Franklin ; " and the care
of some of her jointure lands, which she devolved on me, occasioned my
settling here."

"And how do you, being an Englishman," said the Knight, "protect
your life and property here, when one of your nation cannot obtain a single
night's lodging, or a draught of water, were he thirsty ?"

" Marry, noble Sir," answered the Franklin, " use, as they say, will make
a man live in a lion's den ; and as I settled here in a quiet time, and have
never given cause of offence, I am respected by my neighbours, and even,
as you see, by omx forayers from England."

" I rejoice to hear it, and accept your hospitality. — Isabella, my love, our
worthy host will provide you a bed. — My daughter, good Franklin, is ill at
ease. We will occupy your house till the Scottish king shall return from
his northern expedition — meanwhile call me Lord Lacy of Chester."

The attendants of the Baron, assisted by the Franklin, were now busied
in disposing of the horses, and arranging the table for some refreshment for
Lord Lacy and his fair companion. While they sat down to it, they were
attended by their host and his daughter, whom custom did not permit to
eat in their presence, and who afterwards withdrew to an outer chamber,
where the squire and page (both young men of noble birth) partook of
supper, and were accommodated with beds. The yeomen, after doing
honour to the rustic cheer of Queen Margaret's bailiff, withdrew to the
stable, and each, beside his favouiite horse, snored away the fatigues of
their journey.

Early on the following morning, the travellers were roused by a thundei-
ing knocking at the door of the house, accompanied with many demands
for instant admission, in the roughest tone. The squire and page of Lord
Lacy, after buckling on their arms, were about to sally out to chastise these
intruders, when the old host, after looking out at a private casement, contrived
for reconnoitring his visitors, entreated them, with great signs of terror, to
be quiet, if they did not mean that all in the house should be murdered.

4n

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

He then hastened to the apartment of Lord Lacy, whom he met dressed
in a long furred gown and the knightly cap called a nurrtier, irritated at the
noLse, and demanding to know the cause which had disturbed the repose of
the household.

" Noble sir," said the Franklin, " one of the most formidable and bloody
of the Scottish Border riders is at hand — he is never seen," added he,
faltering with terror, " so far from the hills, but with some bad purpose,
and the power of accomplishing it ; so hold yourself to your guard, for "

A loud crash here announced that the door was broken down, and the
knight just descended the stair in time to prevent bloodshed betwixt his
attendants and the intruders. They were three in number. Their chief
was taU, bony, and athletic ; his spai-e and muscular frame, as well as the
hardness of his features, marked the course of his life to have been
fatiguing and perilous. The eflfect of his appearance was aggravated by
his dress, which consisted of a jack or jacket, composed of thick buff
leather, on which small plates of ii'on of a lozenge form were stitched, in
such a manner as to overlap each other, and form a coat of mail, which
swayed with every motion of the wearer's body. This defensive armour
covered a doublet of coarse grey cloth, and the Borderer had a few half-
rusted plates of steel on his shoulders, a two-edged sword, with a dagger
hanging beside it, in a buff belt ; a helmet, with a few iron bars, to cover
the face instead of a visor, and a lance of tremendous and uncommon length,
completed his appointments. The looks of the man were as wild and rude
as his attire — his keen black eyes never rested one moment fixed upon a
single object, but constantly traversed all around, as if they ever sought
Bome danger to oppose, some plunder to seize, or some insult to revenge.
The latter seemed to be his present object, for, regardless of the dignified
presence of Lord Lacy, he uttered the most incoherent threats against the
owner of the house and his guests.

" We shall see — ay, marry shall we — if an English hound is to harbour
and reset the Southrons here. Thank the Abbot of Melrose, and the good
Knight of Coldingnow, that have so long kept me from your skirts. But
those days are gone, by St. Mary, and you shall find it !"

It is probable the enraged Borderer would not have long continued to
vent his rage in empty menaces, had not the entrance of the four yeomen,
with their bows bent, convinced him that the force was not at this moment
on his own side.

Lord Lacy now advanced towards him. " You intrude upon my privacy,
soldier ; withdraw yourself and your followers — there is peace betwixt our
nations, or my servants should chastise thy presumption."

*' Such peace as ye give, such shall ye have," answered the moss-trooper,
first pointing with his lance towards the burned vDlage, and then almost
instantly levelling it against Lord Lacy. The squire drew his sword, and
severed at one blow the steel head from the truncheon of the spear.

"Arthur Fitzherbert," said the Baron, "that stroke has deferred thy
knighthood for one year — never must that squire wear the spurs, whose
unbridled impetuosity can draw unbidden his sword in the presence of his
master. . Go hence, and think on what I have said."

The squire left the chamber abashed

"It were vain," continued Lord Lacy, "to expect that courtesy from a
mountain churl which even my own followers can forget Yet, before thou

APPENDIX TO GENERAL PREFACE. 473

drawest tliy brand (for the intnider laid his hand upon the hilt of Ms
sword), thou wilt do well to reflect that I came with a safe-conduct from
thy king, and have no time to waste in brawls with such as thou."

" From my king — from my king 1 " re-echoed the mountaineer. " I care
not that rotten tnmcheon (striking the shattered spear furiously on the
ground) for the King of Fife and Lothian. But Habby of Cessford will be
here belive ; and we shall soon know if he will permit an English churl to
occupy his hostelrie."

Having uttered these words, accompanied with a lowering glance from
under his shaggy black eye-brows, he turned on his heel, and left the house
with his two followers ; — they mounted their horses, which they had tied
to an outer fence, and vanished in an instant.

"Who is this discourteous ruffian?" said Lord Lacy to the Franklin,
who had stood in the most violent agitation during this whole scene.

" His name, noble lord, is Adam Kerr of the Moat, but he is commonly
called by his companions the Black Rider of Cheviot. I fear, I fear, he
comes hither for no good — but if the Lord of Cessford be near, he will not
dare offer any unprovoked outrage."

" I have heard of that chief," said the Bai-on — "let me know when he
approaches, and do thou, Rodulph (to the eldest yeoman), keep a strict
watch. Adelbert (to the page), attend to arm me." The page bowed,
and the Baron withdrew to the chamber of the Lady Isabella, to explain
the cause of the disturbance.

No more of the proposed tale was ever written ; but the author's
purpose was, that it should turn upon a fine legend of superstition, which
is current in the part of the Borders where he had his residence ; where,
in the reign of Alexander III. of Scotland, that renowned person Thomas
of Hersildoune, called the Rhymer, actually flourished. This personage,
the Merlin of Scotland, and to whom some of the adventures which the
British bards assigned to Merlin Caledonius, or the Wild, have been
transferred by tradition, was, as is weU known, a magician, as well as a
poet and prophet He is alleged still to live in the land of Faery, and is
expected to return at some great convulsion of society, in which he is to
act a distinguished part — a tradition common to all nations, as the belief
of the Mahomedans respecting their twelfth Imaum demonstrates.

Now, it chanced many years since, that there lived on the Borders a
jolly, rattling horse-cowper, who was remarkable for a reckless and fearless
temper, which made him much admired, and a little dreaded, amongst his
neighbours. One moonlight night, as he rode over Bowden Moor, on the
west side of the Eildon Hills, the scene of Thomas the Rhymer's prophecies,
and often mentioned in his story, having a brace of horses along with him
which he had not been able to dispose of, he met a man of venerable
appearance, and singularly antique dress, who, to liis great surprise, asked
the price of his horses, and began to chaffer with him on the subject. To
Canobie Dick, for so shall we call our Border dealer, a chap was a chap,
and he would have sold a horse to the devil himself, witliout minding his
cloven hoof, and would have probably cheated Old Nick into the bargain.
The stranger paid the price they agreed on, and all that puzzled Dick in
the transaction was, that tJifl gold which he received was in unicorns

474

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

bonuet-pieces, and other ancient coins, which would hare been invaluable to
collectors, but were rather troublesome in modem currency. It was gold,
however, and therefore Dick contrived to get better value for the coin,
than he perhaps gave to his customer. By the command of so good a
merchant, he brought horses to the same spot more than once ; the
purchaser only stipulating that he should always come by night, and alone.
I do not know whether it was from mere curiosity, or whether some hope
of gain mixed with it, but after Dick had sold several horses in this way,
he began to complain that dry bargains were unlucky, and to hint, that
since his chap must live in the neighbourhood, he ought, in the courtesy
of dealing, to treat him to half-a-mutchkin,

"You may see my dwelling if you will," said the stranger ; "but if you
lose courage at what you see there, you will rue it all your life. "

Dicken, however, laughed the warning to scorn, and having alighted to
secure his horse, he followed the stranger up a narrow foot-path, which led
them up the hills to the singular eminence stuck betwixt the most southern
and the centre peaks, and called from its resemblance to such an animal
in its form, the Lucken Hare. At the foot of this eminence, which is
almost as famous for witch meetings as the neighbouring windmill of
Kippilaw, Dick was somewhat startled to observe that his conductor
entered the hill side by a passage or cavern, of which he himself, though
well acquainted with the spot, had never seen or heard.

" You may still return," said his guide, looking ominously back upon
him-; — but Dick scorned to show the white feather, and on they went.
They entered a very long range of stables ; in every stall stood a coal-black
horse ; by every horse lay a knight in coal-black armour, with a drawn
sword in his hand ; but all were as silent, hoof and limb, as if they had
been cut out of marble. A great number of torches lent a gloomy lustre
to the hall, which, like those of the Caliph Vathek, was of large dimen-
sions. At the upper end, however, they at length arrived, where a sword
and horn lay on an antique table.

" He that shall soimd that horn and draw that sword," said the stranger,
who now intimated that he was the famous Thomas of Hersildoune, " shaU,
if his heart fail him not, be king over all broad Britain. So speaks the
tongue that cannot lie. But all depends on courage, and much on your
taking the sword or the horn first. "

Dick was much disposed to take the sword, but his bold spirit was
quailed by the supernatural terrors of the hall, and he thought to unsheath
the sword first, might be construed into defiance, and give offence to the
powers of the Mountain. He took the bugle with a trembling hand, and
a feeble note, but loud enough to produce a terrible answer. Thunder
rolled in stunning peals through the immense hall ; horses and men started
to life ; the steeds snorted, stamped, grinded their bits, and tossed on high
their heads — the warriors sprung to their feet, clashed their armour, and
brandished their swords. Dick's terror was extreme at seeing the whole
army, which had been so lately silent as the grave, in uproar, and about to
rush on him. He dropped the horn, and made a feeble attempt to seize
the enchanted sword ; but at the same moment a voice pronounced aloud
the mysterious words : —

*' Woe to the coward, that ever he was bom,
Who did not draw the sword before he blow the bom I "

APPENDIX TO GENERAL PREFACE. 475

At the same time a whirlwind of irresistible fury howled through the
long hall, bore the unfortunate horse-jockey clear out of the mouth of the
cavern, and precipitated him over a steep bank of loose stones, where the
shepherds found him the next morning, with just breath sufficient to tell
his fearful tale, after concluding which he expired.

This legend, with several variations, is found in many parts of Scotland
and England — the scene is sometimes laid in some favourite glen of the
Highlands, sometimes in the deep coal-mines of Northumberland and
Cumberland, which run so far beneath the ocean. It is also to be found
in Reginald Scott's book on Witchcraft, which was written in the sixteenth
century. It would be in vain to ask what was the original of the tradition.
The choice between the horn and sword may, perhaps, include as a moral,
that it is fool-hardy to awaken danger before we have arms in our hands
to resist it.

Although admitting of much poetical ornament, it is clear that this
legend would have formed but an unhappy foundation for a prose story,
and must have degenerated into a mere fairy tale. Dr. John Leyden has
beautifully introduced the tradition in his Scenes of Infancy : —

Mysterioua Rhymer, doomed by fate's decree,

Still to revisit Eildon's fated tree ;

Where oft the swain, at dawn of Hallow-day,

Hears thy fleet barb with wild impatience neigh ;

Say who is he, with summons long and high,

Shall bid the charmed sleep of ages fly,

RoU the long sound through Eildon's caverns vast,

While each dark warrior kindles at the blast ?

The horn, the falchion grasp with mighty hand,

And peal proud Arthur's march from Fairy-land ?

Scenes of Infancy, Part 2.

In the same cabinet with the preceding fragment, the following occurred
among other disjecta membra. It seems to be an attempt at a tale of a
different description from the last, but was almost instantly abandoned.
The introduction points out the time of the composition to have been about
the end of the eighteenth century.

THE LORD OF ENNERDALE.

IN A FRAGMENT OF A LETTER FROM JOHN B , ESQ. OF THAT UK,

TO WILLIAM G , F.R.8.E.

" Fill a bumper," said the Knight ; " the ladies may spare us a little
longer — Fill a bumper to the Archduke Charles."

The company did due honour to the toast of their landlord.

" The success of the Archduke," said the muddy Vicar, " will tend to
farther out negotiation at Paris ; and if "

" Pardon the interruption, Doctor," quoth a thin emaciated figure, with

476 ' WAVERLEY NOVELS.

somowiiat of a foreign accent ; " but why should you connect those events
unless to hope that the bravery and victories of our allies may supersede
the necessity of a degrading treaty ?"

" We begin to feel, Monsieur I'Abb^," answered the Vicar, with some
asperity, " that a continental war entered into for the defence of an ally who
was unwilling to defend himself, and for the restoration of a royal family,
nobility, and priesthood, who tamely abandoned their own rights, is a
burden too much even for the resources of this country."

"And was the war then on the pai-t of Great Britain," rejoined the Abb^,
"a gratuitous exertion of generosity? Was there no fear of the wide-
wasting spirit of innovation which had gone abroad ? Did not the laity
tremble for their property, the clergy for their religion, and every loyid
heart for the constitution ? Was it not thought necessary to destroy the^
building which was on fire, ere the conflagration spread around the
vicinity?"

"Yet, if upon trial," said the Doctor, "the walls were found to resist
our utmost efforts, I see no great prudence in persevering in our labour
amid the smouldering ruins."

" What, Doctor," said the Baronet, " mtist I call to your recollection
your own sermon on the late general fast ? — did you not encourage us to
hope that the Lord of Hosts would go forth with our armies, and that our
enemies, who blasphemed him, should be put to shame ?"

" It may please a kind father to chasten even his beloved children,"
answered the Vicar.

"I think," said a gentleman near the foot of the table, "that the
Covenanters made some apology of the same kind for the failure of their
prophecies at the battle of Dunbar, when their mutinous preachers com-
pelled the prudent Lesley to go down against the Philistines in Gilgal. "

The Vicar fixed a scrutinizing and not a very complacent eye upon this
intruder. He wae a young man of mean stature, and rather a reserved ap-
pearance. Early and severe study had quenched in his features the gaiety
peculiar to his age, and impressed upon them a premature cast of thought-
fulness. His eye had, however, retained its fire, and his gesture its anima-
tion. Had he remained silent, he would have been long unnoticed ; but
when he spoke, there was something in his manner which arrested attention.

"Who is this young man?" said the Vicar in a low voice, to his
neighbour.

"A Scotchman called Maxwell, on a visit to Sir Henry," was the answer,

" I thought so, from his accent and his manners," said the Vicar,

It may be here observed, that the Northern English retain rather more
of the ancient hereditary aversion to their neighbours than their countrymen
of the South. The interference of other disputants, each of whom urged his
opinion with all the vehemence of wine and politics, rendered the summons
to the drawing-room agreeable to the more sober part of the company.

The company dispersed by degrees, and at length the Vicar and the
young Scotchman alone remained, besides the Baronet, his lady, daughters,
and myself. The clergyman had not, it would seem, forgot the observation
wliich ranked him with the false prophets of Dunbar, for he addressed Mr.
Maxwell upon the first opportunity.

" Hem ! I think, sir, you mentioned something about the civil wars of
last century ? You must be deeply skilled in them, indeed, if you can

APPENDIX TO GENERAL PREFACE. 477

draw any parallel betwixt those and the present evil days — days which I
am ready to maintain are the most gloomy that ever darkened the prospects
of Britain."

"God forbid, Doctor, that I should draw a comparison between the
present times and those you mention. I am too sensible of the advantages
we enjoy over our ancestors. Faction and ambition have introduced
division among us ; but we are still free from the guilt of civil bloodshed,
and from all the evils which flow from it. Our foes, sir, are not those of
our own household ; and while we continue united and firm, from the
attacks of a foreign enemy, however artful, or however inveterate, we have,
I hope, little to dread."

"Have you found anything curious, Mr. Maxwell, among the dusty
papers?" said Sir Henry, who seemed to di-ead a revival of political
discussion.

" My investigation amongst them led to reflections which I have just
now hinted," said Maxwell ; " and I think they are pretty strongly e;i-
emplified by a story which I have been endeavouring to arrange from some
of your family manuscripts."

"You are welcome to make what use of them you please," said Sir
Henry ; " they have been undisturbed for many a day, and I have often
wished for some person as well skilled as you in these old pot-hooks, to
tell me their meaning."

"Those I just mentioned," answered Maxwell, "relate to a piece of
private history, savouring not a little of the marvellous, and intimately
connected with your family : if it is agreeable, I can read to you the
anecdotes, in the modern shape into wliich I have been endeavoxiring to
throw them, and you can then judge of the value of the originals."

There was something in this proposal agreeable to all parties. Sir
Henry had family pride, which prepared him to take an interest in what-
ever related to his ancestors. The ladies had dipped deeply into the
fashionable reading of the present day. Lady Ratcliflf and her fair daughters
had climbed every pass, viewed every pine-shrouded ruin, heard every
groan, and lifted every trap-door, in company with the noted heroine of
Udolpho. They had been heard, however, to observe, that the famous
incident of the Black Veil singularly resembled the ancient apologue of the
Mountain in Labour, so that they were unquestionably critics, as well as
admirers. Besides all this, they had valorously mounted en croupe behind
the ghostly horseman of Prague, through all his seven translators, and
followed the footsteps of Moor through the forest of Bohemia. Moreover,
it was even hinted (but this was a gi'eater mystery than all the rest), that
a certain performance, called the Monk, in three neat volumes, had been
seen, by a prying eye, in the right-hand drawer of the Indian cabinet of
Lady Ratcliflf's dressing room. Thus predisposed for wonders and signs.
Lady Ratcliff and her nymphs drew their chairs round a large blazing wood-
fire, and arranged themselves to listen to the tale. To that fire I also
approached, moved thereunto partly by the inclemency of the season, and
partly that my deafness, which you know, cousin, I acquired during my
campaign under Prince Charles Edward, might be no obstacle to the
gratification of my curiosity, which was awakened by what had any
reference to the fate of such faithful followers of royalty, as you well know
the house of RatclifF have ever been. To this wood-fire the Vicar likewise

478

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

drew near, and reclined himself conveniently in his chair, seemingly dia-
posed to testify his disrespect for the narration and narrator by falling
asleep as soon as he conveniently could. By the side of Maxwell (by the
way, I cannot learn that he is in the least related to the Nithsdale family)
was placed a small table and a couple of lights, by the assistance of which
he read as follows : —

" Journal op Jan Von Eulen.

"On the 6th November 1645, 1, Jan Von Eulen, merchant in Rotterdam,
embarked with my only daughter on board of the good vessel Vryheid of
Amsterdam, in order to pass into the unhappy and disturbed kingdom of
England. 7th November — a brisk gale — daughter sea-sick — myself unable
to complete the calculation which I have begun, of the inheritance left by
Jane Lansache of Carlisle, my late dear wife's sister, the collection of which
is the object of my voyage. 8th November — wind still stormy and adverse
— a horrid disaster nearly happened — my dear child washed overboard as
the vessel lurched to leeward. — Memorandum, to reward the young sailor
who saved her, out of the first monies which 1 can recover from the in-
heritance of her aunt Lansache. 9th November — calm — P.M. light breezes
from N.N.W. I talked with the captain about the inheritance of my sister-
in-law, Jane Lansache. — He says he knows the principal subject, which will
not exceed £1000 in value. N.B. He is a cousin to a family of Petersons,
which was the name of the husband of my sister-in-law ; so there is room
to hope it may be worth more than he reports. 10th November, 10 a.m.
— May God pardon all our sins ! — An English frigate, bearing the Parlia-
ment flag, has appeared in the offing, and gives chase. — 11 a.m. She nears
us every moment, and the captain of our vessel prepares to clear for action.
— May God again have mercy upon us 1 "

"Here," said Maxwell, "the journal with which I have opened the
narration ends somewhat abruptly."

" I am glad of it," said Lady RatcliflF.

" But, Mr. Maxwell," said young Frank, Sir Henry's grandchild, "shall
we not hear how the battle ended ?"

I do not know, cousin, whether I have not formerly made you acquainted
with the abilities of Frank Ratcliff. There is not a battle fought between
the troops of the Prince and of the Government, during the years 1745-6.
of which he is not able to give an account. It is true, I have taken parti-
cular pains to fix the events of this important period upon his memory by
frequent repetition.

" No, my dear," said Maxwell, in answer to young Frank Ratcliff — " No,
my dear, I cannot tell you the exact particulars of the engagement, but its
consequences appear from the following letter, despatched by Garbonete
Von Eulen, daughter of our journalist, to a relation in England, from whom
she implored assistance. After some general account of the purpose of
the voyage, and of the engagement, her narrative proceeds thus : —

"The noise of the cannon had hardly ceased, before the sounds of a
language to me but half known, and the confusion on board our vessel, in-
formed me that the captors had boarded us, and taken possession of our
vessel. I went on deck, where the first spectacle that met my eyes was a

APPENDIX TO GENERAL PREFAOB. 479

yoimg jnan, mate of our vessel, who, though disfigured and covered with
blood, was loaded with irons, and whom they were forcing over the side of
the vessel into a boat. The two principal persons among our enemies
appeared to be a man of a tall thin figure, with a high-crowned hat and
long neckband, and short-cropped head of hair, accompanied by a blufl
open-looking elderly man in a naval unifonn. * Yarely I yarely I pull
away, my hearts ! ' said the latter, and the boat bearing the unhicky young
man soon carried him on board the frigate. Perhaps you will blame me
for mentioning this circumstance ; but consider, my dear cousin, this man
saved my life, and his fate, even when my own and my father's were in the
balance, could not but affect me nearly.

" * In the name of him who is jealous, even to slaying,' said the first"

CETERA DESUNT.

GENERAL PREFACE, p. 10, No. IL

CONCLUSION OF MR. STBUTT's ROMANCE OF

QUEENHOO-HALL.

BY THE AUTHOR OF WAVERLEY.

Chapter Fourth.

A ETONTINQ PARTY — AN ADVENTURE — A DELIVERANCE.

Tele next morning the bugles were sounded by day-break in the court of
Lord Boteler's mansion, to call the inhabitants from their slumbers, to
assist in a splendid chase, with which the Baron had resolved to entertain
his neighbour Fitzallen, and his noble visitor St Clere. Peter Lanaret,
the falconer, was in attendance, with falcons for the knights, and tercelets
for the ladies, if they should choose to vary their sport from hunting to
hawking. Five stout yeomen keepers, with their attendants, called Ragged
Robins, all meetly arrayed in Kendal green, with bugles and short hangers
by their sides, and quarterstaffs in their hands, led the slow-hounds or
brachets, by which the deer were to be put up. Ten brace of gallant
greyhounds, each of which was fit to pluck down, singly, the taUest red
deer, were led in leashes by as many of Lord Boteler's foresters. The
pages, squires, and other attendants of feudal splendour, well attired in
their best hunting-gear, upon horseback or foot, according to their rank,
with their boar-spears, long-bows, and cross-bows, were in seemly waiting.
A numerous train of yeomen, called in the language of the times retainers,
who yearly received a livery coat and a small pension for their attendance
on such solemn occasions, appeared in cassocks of blue, bearing upon their
arms the cognizance of the house of Boteler, as a badge of their adherence.

480 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

4

They -were the tallest men of their hands that the neighbouring villages
could supply, with eveiy man his good buckler on his shoulder, and a
bright burnished broadsword dangling from his leathern belt. On this
occasion they acted as rangers for beating up the thickets, and rousing the
game. These attendants filled up the court of the castle, spacious as it
was.

On the green without, you might have seen the motley assemblage of
peasantry, convened by report of the splendid hunting, including most of
our old acquaintances from Tewin, as well as the jolly partakers of good
cheer at Hob Filcher's. Gregory the jester, it may well be guessed, had
no great mind to exhibit himself in public after his recent disaster ; but
Oswald the steward, a great formalist in whatever concerned the public
exhibition of his master's household state, had positively enjoined his
attendance. "What!" quoth he, "shall the house of the brave Lord
Boteler, on such a brave day as this, be without a fool ? Certes, the good
Lord St. Clere, and his fair lady sister, might think our housekeeping aa
niggardly as that of their churlish kinsman at Gay Bowers, who sent his
father's jester to the hospital, sold the poor sot's bells for hawk-jesses, and
made a nightcap of his long-eared bonnet. And, sirrah, let me see thee
fool handsomely — speak squibs and crackers instead of that dry, barren,
musty, gibing which thou hast used of late ; or, by the bones 1 the porter
shall have thee to his lodge, and cob thee with thine own wooden sword,
till thy skin is as motley as thy doublet."

To this stem injunction Gregory made no reply, any more than to the
courteous offer of old Albert Drawslot, the chief park-keeper, who proposed
to blow vinegar in his nose to sharpen his wit, as he had done that blessed
morning to Bragger, the old houndj whose scent was failing. There was
indeed little time for reply, for the bugles, after a lively flourish, were now
silent, and Peretto, with his two attendant minstrels, stepping beneath the
windows of the strangers' apartments, joined in the following roundelay,
the deep voices of the rangers and falconers making up a chorus that
caiosed the very battlements to ring again.

Waken, lords and ladies gay !

On the mountain dawns the day ;

All the jolly chase is here,

With hawk and horse, and hunting spear;

Hounds are in their couples yelling,

Hawks are whistling, horns are knellin,'^.

Merrily, Merrily, mingle they,

" Waken, lords and ladies gay !

Waken, lords and ladies gay I

The mist has left the mountain grey :

Springlets in the dawnvare strearainjr,

Diamonds on the brake are gleaming,

And foresters have busy been

To track the buck in thicket grerai :

Now we come to chant our lay,

" Waken, lords and ladies gay ! '

Waken, lords and ladios pay I

To the green-wood haste away :

APPENDIX TO GENERAL PREFAOS. 481

We can show you where he lies,
Fleet of foot, and tall of size ;
We can show the marks he made.
When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed ;
You shall see him brought to bay ;
" Waken, lords and ladies gay I "

Louder, louder, chant the lay.

Waken, lords and ladies gay I

Tell them, youth, and mirth, and glee.

Run a course as well as we ;

Time, stem huntsman I who can baulk,

Staunch as hound, and fleet as hawk ?

Think of this, and rise with day.

Gentle lords and ladies gay I

By the time thia lay was finished, Lord Boteler, with his daughter and
kinsman, Fitzallen of Harden, and other noble guests, had mounted their
palfreys, and the hunt set forward in due order. The huntsman, having
carefully observed the traces of a large stag on the preceding evening, were
able, without loss of time, to conduct the company, by the marks which
they had made upon the trees, to the side of the thicket in which, by the
report of Drawslot, he had harboured all night. The horsemen, spreading
themselves along the side of the cover, waited until the keeper entered,
leading his ban-dog, a large blood-hound, tied in a learn or band, from
which he takes his name.

But it befell thus. A hart of the second year, which was in the same
cover with the proper object of their pursuit, chanced to be unharboured
first, and broke cover very near where the Lady Emma and her brother
were stationed. An inexperienced varlet, who was nearer to them,
instantly unloosed two tall greyhounds, who sprung after the fugitive with
all the fleetness of the north wind. Gregory, restored a little to spirits by
the enlivening scene around him, followed, encouraging the hounds with a
loud tayout,* for which he had the hearty curses of the huntsman, as well
as of the Baron, who entered into the spirit of the chase with all the
juvenile ardour of twenty. " May the foul fiend, booted and spurred, ride
down his bawling throat, with a scythe at his girdle 1 " quoth Albert
Drawslot ; " here have I been telling him, that all the marks were those
of a buck of the first head, and he has hallooed the hounds upon a velvet-
headed knobbler ! By Saint Hubert, if I break not his pate with my
cross-bow, may I never cast oflF hound more I But, to it, my lords and
masters ! the noble beast is here yet ; and, thank the saints, we have
enough of hounds."

The cover being now thoroughly beat by the attendants, the stag was
compelled to abandon it, and trust to his speed for his safety. Three
greyhoimds were slipped upon him, whom he threw out, after ninning a
couple of miles, by entering an extensive furzy brake, which extended
along the side of a hill. The horsemen soon came up, and casting oflF a
sufficient number of slow-hounds, sent them with the prickers into the
cover, in order to drive the game from his strength. This object being
accomplished, afforded another severe chase of several miles, in a direction
* Tailliers-hors, in modem phrase, Tally-ho I
VOL. I. 2 I

iSi WAVERLEY NOVELS.

almost circular, during which the poor animal tried every wile to get rid
of his persecutors. He crossed and traversed all such dusty paths as wew
likely to retain the least scent of his footsteps ; he laid himself close to
the ground, drawing his feet under his belly, and clapping his nose close
to the earth, lest he should be betrayed to the hoimds by his breath
and hoofs. When all was in vain, and he found the hounds coming fast
in upon him, his own strength failing, his mouth embossed with foam,
and the tears dropping from his eyes, he turned in despair upon his
pursuers, who then stood at gaze, making an hideous clamour, and
awaiting their two-footed auxiliaries. Of these, it chanced that the Lady
Eleanor, taking more pleasure in the sport than Matilda, and being a less
burden to her palfrey than the Lord Boteler, was the first who arrived at
spot, and taking a cross-bow from an attendant, discharged a bolt at the
stag. When the infuriated animal felt himself wounded, he pushed franticly
towards her from whom he had received the shaft, and Lady Eleanor might
have had occasion to repent of her enterprise, had not young Pitzallen,
who had kept near her during the whole day, at that instant galloped
briskly in, and ere the stag could change his object of assault, dispatched
him with his short hunting sword.

Albert Drawslot, who had just come up in terror for the yotmg lady's
safety, broke out into loud encomiums upon Fitzallen's strength and
gallantry. " By'r Lady, " said he, taking off his cap, and wiping his sun-
burnt face with his sleeve, " well struck, and in good time ! — But now,
boys, doff your bonnets, and sound the mort."

The sportsmen then sounded a treble mort, and set up a general whoop,
which, mingled with the yelping of the dogs, made the welkin ring again.
The huntsman then offered his knife to Lord Boteler, that he might take
the say of the deer, but the Baron courteously insisted upon Fitzallen
going through that ceremony. The Lady Matilda was now come up, with
most of the attendants ; and the interest of the chase being ended, it
excited some surprise, that neither St. Clere nor his sister made their
appearance. The Lord Boteler commanded the horns again to sound the
recheat, in hopes to call in the stragglers, and said to Fitzallen, " Methinks
St. Clere, so distinguished for service in war, should have been more
forward in the chase."

" I trow," said Peter Lanaret, " I know the reason of the noble lord's
absence ; for when that mooncalf, Gregory, hallooed the dogs upon the
knobbler, and galloped like a green hilding, as he is, after them, I saw the
Lady Emma's palfrey follow apace after that varlet, who should be trashed
for over-running, and I think her noble brother has followed her, lest she
should come to harm. — But here, by the rood, is Gregory, to answer for
himself."

At this moment Gregory entered the circle which had been formed roxmd
the deer, out of breath, and his face covered with blood. He kept for
some time uttering inarticulate cries of "Harrow!" and "Well-away!"
and other exclamations of distress and terror, pointing all the while to a
thicket at some distance from the spot where the deer had been killed.

" By my honour," said the Baron, " I would gladly know who has dared
to array the poor knave thus ; and I trust he should dearly abye his out-
recuidance, were he the best, save one, in England."

Gregory, who had now foimd more breath, cried, " Help J an' ye be

APPENDIX TO GENERAL PREFACE. 483

men 1 Save Iiady Emma and her brother, whom they are murdering in
Brockenhurst thicket. "

This pirt all in motion. Lord Boteler hastily commanded a small party
of his men to abide for the defence of the ladies, while he himself, Fitzallen,
and the rest, made what speed they could towards the thicket, guided by
Gregory, who for that purpose was mounted behind Fabian. Pushing
through a narrow path, the first object they encountered was a man of
small stature lying on the groimd, mastered and almost strangled by two
dogs, which were instantly recognised to be those that had accompanied
Gregory. A little farther was an open space, where lay three bodies of
dead or wounded men ; beside these, was Lady Emma, apparently lifeless,
her brother and a young forester bending over and endeavouring to recover
her. By employing the usual remedies, this was soon accomplished ; while
Lord Boteler, astonished at such a scene, anxiously inquired at St. Clere
the meaning of what he saw, and whether more danger was to be expected ^

" For the present, I trust not," said the young warrior, who they now
observed was slightly wounded ; " but I pray you, of your nobleness, let
the woods here be searched ; for we were assaulted by four of these base
assassins, and I see three only on the sward."

The attendants now brought forward the person whom they had rescued
from the dogs, and Henry, with disgust, shame, and astonishment, recog-
nised his kinsman, Gaston St. Clere. This discovery he communicated in
a whisper to Lord Boteler, who commanded the prisoner to be conveyed to
Queenhoo-Hall, and closely guarded ; meanwhile he anxiously inquired of
young St. Clere about his wound.

" A scratch, a trifle !" cried Henry ; " I am in less haste to bind it than
to introduce to you one, without whose aid that of the leech would have
come too late. — Where is he ? where is my brave deliverer ?"

"Here, most noble lord," said Gregory, sliding from his palfrey, and
stepping forward, " ready to receive the guerdon which your boimty would
heap on him."

"Truly, friend Gregory," answered the young warrior, "thou shalt not
be forgotten ; for thou didst run speedily, and roar manfully for aid, with-
out which, I think verily, we had not received it. — But the brave forester,
who came to my rescue when these three ruffians had nigh overpowered
me, where is he?"

Every one looked around, but though all had seen him on entering the
thicket, he was not now to be found. They could only conjecture that he
had retired during the confusion occasioned by the detention of Gaston.

" Seek not for him," said the Lady Emma, who had now in some degree
recovered her composure ; " he will not be found of mortal, unless at his
own season."

The Baron, convinced from this answer that her terror had, for the time,
somewhat disturbed her reason, forbore to question her ; and Matilda and
Eleanor, to whom a message had been despatched with the result of this
strange adventure, arriving, they took the Lady Emma between them, and
all in a body returned to the castle.

The distance was, however, considerable ; and, before reaching it, they
had another alarm. The prickers, who rode foremost in the troop, halted,
and announced to the Lord Boteler that they perceived advancing towsjds
them a body of armed men. The followers of the Baron were numerous.

484

WAVEELEY NOVELS.

but they were arrayed for the chase, not for battle ; and it was with great
pleasure that he discerned, on the pennon of the advancing body of men-
at-arms, instead of the cognizance of Gaston, as he had some reason to
expect, the friendly bearings of Fitzosborne of Diggswell, the same young
lord who was present at the May-games with Fitzallen of Harden. The
knight himself advanced, sheathed in armour, and, without raising his
visor, informed Lord Boteler, that, having heard of a base attempt made
upon a part of his train by ruffianly assassins, he had mounted and armed
a small party of his retainers, to escort them to Queenhoo-HalL Having
received and accepted an invitation to attend them thither, they prosecuted
their journey in confidence and security, and arrived safe at home without
any further accident.

Chapter Fifth.

investigation of the adventure op the hunting — a discovery —
Gregory's manhood — fate of gaston st. clere — conclusion .

So soon as they arrived at the princely mansion of Boteler, the Lady
Emma craved permission to retire to her chamber, that she might compose
her spirits after the terror she had undergone. Henry St. Clere, in a few
words, proceeded to explain the adventure to the curious audience. *' I
had no sooner seen my sister's palfrey, in spite of her endeavours to the
contrary, entering with spirit into the chase set on foot by the worshipful
Gregory, than I rode after to give her assistance. So long was the chase,
that when the greyhounds pulled down the knobbler, we were out of hear-
ing of your bugles ; and having rewarded and coupled the dogs, I gave
them to be led by the jester, and we wandered in quest of our company,
whom it would seem the sport had led in a different direction. At length,
passing through the thicket where you found us, I was surprised by a
cross-bow bolt whizzing past mine head. I drew my sword, and roislied
into the thicket, but was instantly assailed by two ruffians, while other
two made towards my sister and Gregory. The poor knave fled, crying
for help, pursued by my false kinsman, now your prisoner ; and the designs
of the other on my poor Emma (murderous, no doubt) were prevented by
the sudden apparition of a brave woodsman, who, after a short encounter,
stretched the miscreant at his feet, and came to my assistance. I was
already slightly wounded, and nearly overlaid with odds. The combat
lasted some time, for the caitiffs were both well ai-med, strong, and des-
perate ; at length, however, we had each mastered our antagonist, when
your retinue, my Lord Boteler, arrived to my relief. So ends my story ;
but, by my knighthood, I would give an earl's ransom for an opportunity
of thanking the gallant forester by whose aid I live to tell it."

" Fear not," said Lord Boteler, " he shall be found, if this or the four
adjacent counties hold him. — And now Lord Fitzosborne will be pleased to
doff the armour he has so kindly assumed for our sakes, and we will all
bowne ourselves for the banquet."

When the hour of dinner approached, the Lady Matilda and her cousin
visited the chamber of the fair Darcy. They found her in a composed but
melancholy posture. She turned the discourse upon the misfortunes of

APPENDIX TO GENERAT. PREFACE. 486

her life, and hinted, that having recovered her brother, and seeing him look
forward to the society of one who would amply repay to him the loss of
hers, she had thoughts of dedicating her remaining life to Heaven, by whos«
providential interference it had been so often preserved.

Matilda coloured deeply at something in this speech, and her cousin in-
veighed loudly against Emma's resolution. " Ah, my dear Lady Eleanor,"
replied she, " I have to-day witnessed what I cannot but judge a super-
natural visitation, and to what end can it call me but to give myself to the
altar ? That peasant who guided me to Baddow through the Park of Dan-
buiy, the same who appeared before me at diflFerent times, and in different
forms, during that eventful journey — that youth, whose features are im-
printed on my memory, is the very individual forester who this day rescued
us in the forest. I cannot be mistaken ; and connecting these marvellous
appearances with the spectre which I saw while at Gay Bowers, I cannot
resist the conviction that Heaven has permitted my guardian angel to
assume mortal shape for my relief and protection."

The fair cousins, after exchanging looks which implied a fear that her
mind was wandering, answered her in soothing terms, and finally prevailed
upon her to accompany them to the banqueting-hall. Here the first person
they encountered was the Baron Fitzosborne of Diggswell, now divested of
his armour ; at the sight of whom the Lady Emma changed colour, and ex-
claiming, "It is the same !" sunk senseless into the arms of Matilda.

" She is bewildered by the terrors of the day," said Eleanor ; " and we
have done ill in obliging her to descend."

" And I," said Fitzosborne, " have done madly in presenting before her
one, whose presence must recall moments the most alarming in her life."

While the ladies supported Emma from the hall. Lord Boteler and St.
Clere requested an explanation from Fitzosborne of the words he had used.

" Trust me, gentle lords," said the Baron of Diggswell, " ye shall have
what ye demand, when I learn that Lady Emma Darcy has not suffered
from my imprudence."

At this moment Lady Matilda returning, said that her fair friend, on
her recovery, had calmly and deliberately insisted that she had seen Fitz-
osborne before, in the most dangerous crisis of her life.

"I dread," said she, "her disordered mind connects all that her eye
beholds with the temble passages that she has witnessed. "

" Nay," said Fitzosborne, " if noble St. Clere can pardon the unauthorised
interest which, with the purest and most honourable intentions, I have
taken in his sister's fate, it is easy for me to explain this mysterious im-
pression."

He proceeded to say, that, happening to be in the hostelry called the
Griffin, near Baddow, while upon a journey in that country, he had met
with the old nurse of the Lady Emma Darcy, who, being just expelled from
Gay Bowers, was in the height of her grief and indignation, and made loud
and public proclamation of Lady Emma's wrongs. From the description
she gave of the beauty of her foster-child, as well as from the spirit of
chivalry, Fitzosborne became interested in her fate. This interest was
deeply enhanced, when, by a bribe to old Gaunt the Reve, he procured a
view of the Lady Emma as she walked near the castle of Gay Bowers. The
aged churl refused to give him access to the castle ; yet dropped some
hints, as if he thought the lady in danger, and wished she were well out

486 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

of it. His master, he said, had heard she had a brother in life, and since
that deprived him of all chance of gaining her domains by purchase, ht

in short. Gaunt wished they were safely separated. " If any injury,"

quoth he, " should happen to the damsel here, it were ill for us alL I tried,
by an innocent stratagem, to frighten her from the castle, by introducing
a figure through a trap-door, and warning her, as if by a voice from the
dead, to retreat from thence ; but the giglet is wilful, and is running upon
her fate."

Finding Gaimt, although covetous and communicative, too faithful a
servant to his wicked master to take any active steps against his commands,
Fitzosbome applied himself to old Ursely, whom he foimd more tractable.
Through her he learned the dreadful plot Gaston had laid to rid himself of his
kinswoman, and resolved to effect her deliverance. But aware of the delicacy
of Emma's situation, he charged Ursely to conceal from her the interest he
took in her distress, resolving to watch over her in disguise until he saw
her in a place of safety. Hence the appearance he made before her in
various dresses during her journey, in the course of which he was never far
distant ; and he had always four stout yeomen within hearing of his bugle,
had assistance been necessary. When she was placed in safety at the
lodge, it was Fitzosbome's intention to have prevailed upon his sisters to
visit, and take her under their protection ; but he found them absent from
Diggswell, having gone to attend an aged relation who lay dangerously ill
in a distant county. They did not return until the day before the May-
games ; and the other events followed too rapidly to permit Fitzosbome to
lay any plan for introducing them to Lady Emma Darcy. On the day of
the chase he resolved to preserve his romantic disguise, and attend the
Lady Emma as a forester, partly to have the pleasure of being near her,
and partly to judge whether, according to an idle report in the country,
she favoured his friend and comrade Fitzallen of Harden. This last motive,
it may easily be believed, he did not declare to the company. After the
skirmish with the ruffians, he waited till the Baron and the hunters arrived,
and then, still doubting the farther designs of Gaston, hastened to his castle,
to arm the band which had escorted them to Queenhoo-Hall.

Fitzosbome's story being finished, he received the thanks of all the com-
pany, particularly of St. Clere, who felt deeply the respectful delicacy with
which he had conducted himself towards his sister. The lady was carefully
informed of her obligations to him ; and it is left to the well-judging reader,
whether even the raillery of Lady Eleanor made her regret that Heaven had
only employed natui-al means for her security, and that the guardian angel
was converted into a handsome, gallant, and enamoured knight.

The joy of the company in the haU extended itself to the buttery, where
Gregory the jester narrated such feats of arms done by himself in the fray
of the moming as might have shamed Bevis and Guy of Warwick. He
was, according to his narrative, singled out for destruction by the gigantic
Baron himself, while he abandoned to meaner hands the destruction of St
Clere and Fitzosbome.

" But certes," said he, " the foul paynim met his match ; for, ever as he
foined at me with his brand, I parried his blows with my bauble, and clos-
ing with him upon the third veny, threw him to the ground, and made him
cry recreant to an unarmed man."

"Tush, man.' said Drawslot, "thou forgettest thy best auxiliaries, the

APPENDIX TO GENEBAL PREFACE. 487

good greyhounds, Help and Holdfast I I warrant thee, that when the
humpbacked Baron caught thee by the cowl, which he hath almost torn
off, thou hadst been in a fair plight had they not remembered an old friend,
and come in to the rescue. Why, man, I found them fastened on him
myself ; and there was odd staving and stickling to make them * ware
haunch ! ' Their mouths were full of the flex, for I pulled a piece of the
garment from their jaws. I wan-ant thee, that when they brought him to
the ground, thou fled'st like a frighted pricket."

"And as for Gregory's gigantic paynim," said Fabian, "why, he lies
yonder in the guard-room, the very size, shape, and colour of a spider in a
yew-hedge."

"It is false," said Gregory ; '-Colbrand the Dane was a dwarf to him."

"It is as true," returned Fabian, "as that the Tasker is to be married,
on Tuesday, to Pretty Margery. Gregory, thy sheet hath brought them
between a pair of blankets."

" I care no more for such a gillflirt," said the Jester, " than I do for thy
leasings Marry, thou hop-o'-my-thumb, happy wouldst thou be could thy
head reach the captive Baron's girdle."

"By the mass," said Peter Lanaret, " I will have one peep at this burly
gallant ;" and leaving the buttery, he went to the guard-room where Gaston
St. Clere was confined. A man-at-arms, who kept sentinel on the strong
studded door of the apartment, said he believed he slept ; for that after
raging, stamping, and uttering the most homd imprecations, he had been
of late perfectly still. The Falconer gently drew back a sliding board, of
a foot square, towards the top of the door, which covered a hole of the
same size, strongly latticed, through which the warder, without opening the
door, could look in upon his prisoner. From this aperture he beheld the
wretched Gaston suspended by the neck, by his own girdle, to an iron ring
in the side of his prison. He had clambered to it by means of the table
on which his food had been placed ; and in the agonies of shame and dis-
appointed malice, had adopted this mode of ridding himself of a wretched
life. He was found yet warm, but totally lifeless. A proper account of
the manner of his death was drawn up and certified. He was buried that
evening in the chapel of the castle, out of respect to his high birth ; and
the chaplain of Fitzallen of Marden, who said the service upon the occasion,
preached, the next Sunday, an excellent sermon upon the text, Radix malo-

"mm est cupiditas, which we have here transcribed.

* * * « •

[Here the manuscript, from which we have painfully transcribed, and
frequently, as it were, translated this tale, for the reader's edification, is so
indistinct and defaced, that, excepting certain howbeits, nathlesses, lo ye's !
etc., we can pick out little that is intelligible, saving that avarice is defined
"a likourishness of heart after earthly things." A little farther, there
seems to have been a gay account of Margery's wedding with Ralph the
Tasker ; the running at the quintain, and other rural games practised on
the occasion. There are also fragments of a mock sermon preached by
Gregory upon that occasion, as, for example : —

" My dear cursed caitiffs, there was once a king, and he wedded a young
old queen, and she had a child ; and this child was sent to Solomon the
Sage, praying he would give it the same blessing which he got from the
witch of Endor when she bit him by the heel. Hereof speaks the worthj

488 WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Dr. Radigundus Rotator ; why should not mass be eaid for all the roasted
shoe souls served up in the king's dish on Saturday ; for true it is, thai
St. Peter asked father Adam, as they journeyed to Camelot, an high, great,
and doubtful question, * Adam, Adam, why eatedst thou the apple without
paring ? ' " *

With much goodly gibberish to the same effect, which display of Gre-
gory's ready wit not only threw the whole company into convulsions of
laughter, but made such an impression on Rose, the Potter's daughter,
that it was thought it would be the Jester's own fault if Jack was long
without his Jill. Much pithy matter, concerning the bringing the bride to
bed, the loosing the bridegroom's poiuts, the scramble which ensued for
them, and the casting of the stocking, is also omitted from its obscurity.

The following song, which has been since borrowed by the worshipful
author of the famous " History of Fryar Bacon," has been with difficulty
deciphered. It seems to have been sung on occasion of canying home the
bride.

BRIDAL SONG.
To the tune of—" I have been a Fiddler," eto.
And did you not hear of a mirth befell

The morrow after a wedding day,
And carrying a bride at home to dwell?
And away to Tewin, away, away !

The quintain was set, and the garlands were vawiB ; —

'Tis pity old customs should ever decay ;
And wo be to him that was horsed on a jade,

For he carried no credit away, away.
We met a concert of fiddle de-dees ;

We set them a cockhorse, and made them pky
The winning of Bullen, and Upsey-frees,

And away to Tewin, away, away I

There was ne'er a lad in all the parish

That would go to the plough that day ;
But on his fore-horse his wench he carries,

And away to Tewin, away, away I

• This tirade of gibberish is literally taken or selected from a mock discourae
pronounced by a professed jester, which occurs in an ancient manuscript in the
Advocates' Library, the same from which the late ingenious Mr. Weber published
the curious comic romance of the Hunting of the Hare. It was introduced in
compliance with Mr. Strutt's plan of rendering his tale an illustration of ancient
majiners. A similar burlesque seimon is pronounced by the Fool in Sir David
Lindesay's satire of the Three Estates. The nonsense and vulgar burlesque of that
composition illustrate the ground of Sir Andrew Aguecheek's eulogy on the exploits
of the jester in Twelfth Night, who, reserving his sharper jests for Sir Toby, had
doubtless enough of the jargon of his calling to captivate the imbecility of his
brother knight, who is made to exclaim—" In sooth thou wast in very gracioui
fooling last night, when thou spokest of Pigrogremitus, and of the vapours passing
the equinoctials of Quenbus ; 'twas very good, i' faith ! " It is entertaining to find
commentators seeking to discover some meaning in the professional jargon of such
a passage as this.

APPENDIX TO GENERAL PREFACE. 489

The butler was quick, and the ale he did tap ;

The maidens did make the chamber full gay;
The servants did give me a fuddling cup.

And I did carry't away, away !

The smith of the town his liquor so took,
That he was persuaded that the ground looked blue ;

And I dare boldly be sworn on a book,
Such smiths as he there's but a few.

A posset was made, and the women did sip,
And simpering said, they could eat no more ;

Full many a maiden was laid on the lip, —
I'll say no more, but give o'er (give o'er).

But what our fair readers will chiefly regret, is the loss of three declar-
ations of love : the first by St. Clere to Matilda ; which, with the lady's
answer, occupies fifteen closely-written pages of manuscript. That of
Fitzosbome to Emma is not much shorter ; but the amours of Fitzallen
and Eleanor, being of a less romantic cast, are closed in three pages only.
The three noble couples were married in Queenhoo-Hall upon the same
day, being the twentieth Sunday after Easter. There is a prolix account
of the marriage-feast, of which we can pick out the names of a few dishes,
such as peterel, crane, sturgeon, swan, etc. etc., with a profusion of wild-
fowl and venison. We also see that a suitable song was produced by
Peretto on the occasion ; and that the bishop who blessed the bridal heds
which received the happy couples, was no niggard of his holy water, be-
stowing half-a-gallon upon each of the couches. We regret we cannot give
these curiosities to the reader in detail, but we hope to expose the manu-
script to abler antiquaries, so soon as it shall be framed and glazed by the
ingenious artist who rendered that service to Mr. Ireland's Shakspeare
MSS. And so (being unable to lay aside the style to which our pen is
habituated), gentle reader, we bid thee heartily farewell.]

No. III.
ANECDOTE OF SCHOOL DAYS.

UPON WHICH MR, THOMAS SCOTT PROPOSED TO FOUND A TALE OF FICTION.

It is well known in the South that there is little or no boxing at the
Scottish schools. About forty or fifty years ago, however, a far more
dangerous mode of fighting, in parties or factions, was permitted in the
streets of Edinburgh, to the great disgrace of the police, and danger of the
parties concerned. These parties were generally formed from the quarters
of the town in which the combatants resided, those of a particular square
or district fighting against those of an adjoining one. Hence it happened
that the children of the higher classes were often pitted against those of
the lower, each taking their side acconling to the residence of their friends

i90

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

So far as I recollect, however, it was iinmingled either with feelings of
democracy or aristocracy, or indeed with malice or ill-will of any kind
towards the opposite party. In fact, it was only a rough mode of play.
Such contests were, however, maintained with great vigour, with stones, and
sticks, and fisticuffs, when one party dared to charge, and the other stood
their ground. Of course, mischief sometimes happened : boys are said to
have been killed at these Bickers, as they were called, and serious accidents
certainly took place, as many contemporaries can bear witness.

The Author's father residing in George Square, in the southern side of
Edinburgh, the boys belonging to that family, with others in the square,
were arranged into a sort of company, to which a lady of distinction pre-
sented a handsome set of colours. Now this company or regiment, as a
matter of course, was engaged in weekly warfare with the boys inhalaiting
the Crosscauseway, Bristo Street, the Potterrow — in short, the neighbour-
ing suburbs. These last were chiefly of the lower rank, but hardy loons,
who threw stones to a hair's-breadth, and were very rugged antagonists at
close quarters. The skirmish sometimes lasted for a whole evening, until
one party or the other was victorious, when, if ours were successful, we
drove the enemy to their quarters, and were usually chased back by the re-
inforcement of bigger lads who came to their assistance. If, on the con-
trary, we were pursued, as was often the case, into the precincts of our
square, we were in our turn supported by our elder brothers, domestic
servants, and similar auxiliaries.

It followed, from our frequent opposition to each other, that, though
not knowing the names of our enemies, we were yet well acquainted with
their appearance, and had nick-names for the most remarkable of them.
One very active and spirited boy might be considered as the principal leader
in the cohort of the suburbs. He was, I suppose, thirteen or fourteen
years old, finely-made, tall, blue-eyed, with long fair hair, the very picture
of a youthful Goth. This lad was always first in the charge, and last in
the retreat — the Achilles, at once, and Ajax, of the Crosscauseway. He
was too formidable to us not to have a cognomen, and, like that of a knight
of old, it was taken from the most remarkable part of his dress, being a
pair of old green livery breeches, which was the principal part of his cloth-
ing ; for, like Pentapolin, according to Don Quixote's account. Green-
Breeks, as we called him, always entered the battle with bare arms, legs,
and feet.

It fell, that once upon a time, when the combat was at the thickest, this
plebeian champion headed a sudden charge, so rapid and furious that all
fled before him. He was several paces before his comrades, and had
actually laid his hands on the patrician standard, when one of our party,
whom some misjudging friend had entrusted with a couteau de chasse, or
hanger, inspired with a zeal for the honour of the corps, worthy of Major
Sturgeon himself, struck poor Green-Breeks over the head, with strength
sufficient to cut him down. When this was seen, the casualty was so far
beyond what had ever taken place before, that both parties fled different
ways, leaving poor Green-Breeks, with his bright hair plentifully dabbled
in blood, to the care of the watchman, who (honest man) took care not to
know who had done the mischief. The bloody hanger was flung into one
of the Meadow ditches, and solemn secrecy was sworn on all hands ; but
tliQ remorse and terror of the actor were beyond all boimds, and his appre-

APPENDIX TO GENERAL PREFACE. 491

henslons of the most dreadful character. The wounded hero was for a
few days in the Infirmary, the case being only a trifling one. But though
inquiry was strongly pressed on him, no argument could make him indi-
cate the person from whom he had received the wound, though he must
have been perfectly well known to him. When he recovered, and was
dismissed, the Author and his brothers opened a communication with him,
through the medium of a popular ginger -bread baker, of whom both
parties were customers, in order to tender a subsidy in name of smart-
money. The sum would excite ridicule were I to name it ; but sure I am,
that the pockets of the noted Green-Breeks never held as much money of
his own. He declined the remittance, saying that he would not sell his
blood ; but at the same time reprobated the idea of being an informer, which
he said was clam, i.e. base or mean. With much urgency he accepted a
pound of snuff for the use of some old woman — aunt, grandmother, or the
like — with whom he lived. We did not become friends, for the bickers
were more agreeable to both parties than any more pacific amusement ;
but we conducted them ever after under mutual assurances of the highest
consideration of each other.

Such was the hero whom Mr. Thomas Scott proposed to carry to Canada,
and involve in adventures with the natives and colonists of that country.
Perhaps the youthful generosity of the lad will not seem so great in the
eyes of others as to those whom it was the means of screening from severe
rebuke and punishment. But it seemed, to those concerned, to argue a
nobleness of sentiment far beyond the pitch of most minds ; and however
obscurely the lad who showed such a frame of noble spirit may have
lived or died, I cannot help being of opinion, that if fortune had placed
him in circumstances calling for gallantry or generosity, the man would
have fulfilled the promises of the boy. Long afterwards, when the story
was told to my father, he censured us severely for not telling the truth at
the time, that he might have attempted to be of use to the young man in
entering on life. But our alarms for the consequences of the drawn sword,
and the wound inflicted with such a weapon, were far too predominant at
the time for such a pitch of generosity.

Perhaps I ought not to have inserted this school-boy tale ; but besides
the strong impression made by the incident at the time, the whole accom-
paniments of the story are matters to me of solemn and sad recollection.
Of all the little band who were concerned in those juvenile sports or brawls,
I can scarce recollect a single survivor. Some left the ranks of mimic war
to die in the active service of their country. Many sought distant lands to
return no more. Others, dispersed in different paths of life, "my dim
eyes now seek for in vain." Of five brothers, all healthy and promising,
in a degree far beyond one whose infancy was visited by personal infirmity,
and whose health after this (period seemed long very precarious, I am,
nevertheless, the only survivor. The best loved, and the best deserving to
be loved, who had destined this incident to be the foundation of literary
composition, died " before his day " in a distant and foreign land ; and
. trifles assume an importance not their own when connected with thoee who
have been loved and lost.

APPENDIX

TO INTKODUCTION (1829), p. 20.

The mutual protection afforded by Waverley and Talbot to each other
upon which the whole plot depends, is founded upon one of those anecdotae |
which soften the features even of civil war ; and as it is equally honourable
to the memory of both parties, we have no hesitation to give their names i
at length. When the Highlanders, on the morning of the battle of Preston, \
1745, made their memorable attack on Sir John Cope's army, a battery of ^
four field-pieces was stormed and carried by the Camerons and the Stewarts j
of Appine. The late Alexander Stewart of Invernahyle was one of the j
foremost in the charge, and observing an officer of the King's forces, who, i
scorning to join the flight of all around, remained with his sword in his
hand, as if determined to the very last to defend the post assigned to him,
the Highland gentleman commanded him to surrender, and received for
reply a thrust, which he caught in his target. The officer was now defence-
less, and the battle-axe of a gigantic Highlander (the miller of Invemahyle's i
mill) was uplifted to dash his brains out, when Mr. Stewart with difficulty i
prevailed on him to yield. He took charge of his enemy's property, pro-
tected his person, and finally obtained him liberty on his parole. Thai
officer proved to be Colonel Whitefoord, an Ayrshire gentleman of high]
character and influence, and warmly attached to the House of Hanover j ;
yet such was the confidence existing between these two honourable men,'
though of different political principles, that while the civil war was raging,
and straggling officers from the Highland army were executed without j
mercy, Invernahyle hesitated not to pay his late captive a visit as he re- 1
turned to the Highlands to raise fresh recruits, on which occasion he spent \
a day or two in Ayrshire among Colonel Whitefoord's Whig friends, as
pleasantly and as good-humouredly as if all had been at peace around him.

After the battle of Culloden had ruined the hopes of Charles Edward,
and dispersed his proscribed adherents, it was Colonel Whitefoord's turn
to strain every nerve to obtain Mr. Stewart's pardon. He went to the
Lord Justice-Clerk, to the Lord Advocate, and to all the officers of state,
and each application was answered by the production of a list, in which
Invernahyle (as the good old gentleman was wont to express it) appeared
** marked with the sign of the beast ! " as a subject unfit for favour or
pardon.

At length Colonel Whitefoord applied to the Duke of Cumberland in
person. From him also he received a positive refusal. He then limited his
request, for the present, to a protection for Stewart's house, wife, children,
and property. This was also refused by the Duke ; on which Colonel
Whitefoord, taking his commission from his bosom, laid it on the table
before his Royal Highness with much emotion, and asked permission to
retire from the service of a sovereign who did not know how to spare a
vanquished enemy. The Duke was struck, and even afi"ected. He bade
the Colonel take up his commission, and granted the protection he required,

APPENDIX TO INTEODUCTION. 493

It was issued just in time to save the house, com, and cattle at Inveraahyle
from the troops who were engaged in laying waste what it was the fashion
to call "the country of the enemy." A small encampment of soldiers was
formed on Invemahyle's property, which they spared while plundering the
country around, and searching in every direction for the leaders of the in-
surrection, and for Stewart in particular. He was much nearer them than
they suspected ; for, hidden in a cave (like the Baron of Bradwardine), he
lay for many days so near the English sentinels, that he could hear their
muster-roll called. His food was brought to him by one of his daughters,
a child of eight years old, whom Mrs. Stewart was under the necessity of
entrusting with this commission ; for her OAvn motions, and those of all
her elder inmates, were closely watched. With ingenuity beyond her
years, the child used to stray about among the soldiers, who were rather
kind to her, and thus seize the moment when she was unobserved, and
steal into the thicket, when she deposited whatever small store of provisions
she had in charge at some marked spot, where her father might find it.
Invemahyle supported life for several weeks by means of these precarious
supplies ; and as he had been wounded in the battle of Culloden, the hard-
ships which he endured were aggravated by great bodily pain. After the
soldiers had removed their quarters, he had another remarkable escape.

As he now ventured to his own house at night, and left it in the morning,
he was espied during the dawn by a party of the enemy, who fired at and
pursued him. The fugitive being fortunate enough to escape their search,
they returned to the house, and charged the family with harbouring one of
the proscribed traitors. An old woman had presence of mind enough to
maintain that the man they had seen was the shepherd. " Why did he
not stop when we called to him ?" said the soldier. — " He is as deaf, poor
man, as a peat-stack," answered the ready-witted domestic. — " Let him be
sent for, directly." The real shepherd accordingly was brought from the
hill, and as there was time to tutor him by the way, he was as deaf when
he made his appearance as was necessary to sustain his character. Inver-
nahyle was afterwards pardoned under the Act of Indemnity.

The Author knew him well, and has often heard these circumstances
from his own mouth. He was a noble specimen of the old Highlander,
far descended, gallant, coiirteous, and brave, even to chivalry. He had
been out, I believe, in 1715 and 1745 ; was an active partaker in all the
stirring scenes which passed in the Highlands betwixt these memorable
eras ; and, I have heard, was remarkable, among other exploits, for having
fought a duel with the broadsword with the celebrated Rob Roy Mac-
Gregor, at the Clachan of Balquhidder.

Invemahyle chanced to be in Edinburgh when Paul Jones came into the
Firth of Forth, and though then an old man, I saw him in arms, and heard
him exult (to use his own words) in the prospect of *' drawing his claymore
once more before he died." In fact, on that memorable occasion, when
the capital of Scotland was menaced by three trifling sloops or brigs, scarce
fit to have sacked a fishing village, he was the only man who seemed to
propose a plan of resistance. He offered to the magistrates, if broadswords
and dirks could be obtained, to find as many Highlanders among the lower
classes as would cut off any boat's crew who might be sent into a town full
of narrow and winding passages, in which they were likely to disperse in
quest of plunder. I know not if his plan was attended to ; T rather tbiTiJf

494 WAVERLEY NOVELS. *;

it seemed too hazardous to the constituted authorities, who might not
even at that time, desire to see arms in Highland hands. A steady and
powerful west wind settled the matter, by sweeping Paul Jones and his
ressels out of the Firth.

If there is something degrading in this recollection, it is not unpleasant
to compare it with those of the last war, when Edinburgh, besides regular
forces and militia, furnished a volunteer brigade of cavalry,* infantry, and
artillery, to the amount of six thousand men and upwards, which was in
readiness to meet and repel a force of a far more formidable description
than was commanded by the adventurous American. Time and circum-
stances change the character of nations and the fate of cities ; and it is
some pride to a Scotchman to reflect, that the independent and manly
character of a country willing to entrust its own protection to the arms of
its children, after having been obscured for half-a-century, has, during the
course of his own lifetime, recovered its lustre.

* (The Author was quarter-master of the Edinburgh Volunteer Light Horse.)

NOTE TO GENERAL PREFACE, p. 19.

THE PUBLICATION OF WAVERLEY.

From Lockhart's Memoirs of Scott.

["There appeared in The Scots Magazine for February 1st, 1814, an
announcement, that * Waverley ; or, 'tis Sixty Years Since, a novel, in 3
vols. 12mo,' would be published in March. And before Scott came into
Edinburgh, at the close of the Christmas vacation, on the 12th of January,
Mr. Erskine had perused the greater part of the first volume, and expressed
his decided opinion that Waverley would prove the most popular of all his
friend's writings. The MS. was forthwith copied by John Ballantyne, and
sent to press."

In a letter to his friend J. B. S. Morritt of Rokeby, dated July 9, 1814,
Sir Walter says : —

" Now, to go from one important subject to another, I must account for
my own laziness, which I do by referring you to a small anonymous sort
of a novel, in three volumes, Waverley, which you will receive by the mail
of this day. It was a very old attempt of mine to embody some traits of
those characters and manners peculiar to Scotland, the last remnants of
which vanished during my own youth, so that few or no traces now remain.
1 had written great part of the first volume, and sketched other passages,
when I mislaid the MS., and only found it by the merest accident as I was
rummaging the drawers of an old cabinet ; and I took the fancy of finish-
ing it, which I did so fast, that the last two volumes were written in three
weeks."

Again, in a subsequent note, he adds —

" As to Waverley, I will play Sir Fretful for once, and assure you that
I left the story to flag in the first volume on purpose : the second and

NOTE TO GENERAL PREFACE. 495

third have rather more bustle and interest. I wished (with what success
Heaven knows) to avoid the ordinary error of novel writers, whose first
volume is usually their best. But since it has served to amuse Mrs. Morritt
and you v^que ah initio, I have no doubt you will tolerate it even unto the
end."

The above statement respecting the time occupied in the composition of
the two last volumes is borne out by the following anecdote, told by his
future son-in-law, J. G. Lockhart : —

"Happening to pass through Edinburgh in June 1814, I dined one day
with William Menzies (afterwards Judge at the Cape of Good Hope), whose
residence was then in George Street, situated very near to and within sight
of the back windows of Scott's house in North Castle Street. It was a party
of very young persons, most of them, like Menzies and myself, destined for
the Bar of Scotland, all gay and thoughtless, enjoying the first flush of
manhood, with little remembrance of the yesterday, or care of the morrow.

" When my companion's worthy father and uncle, after seeing two or
three bottles go round, left the juveniles to themselves, the weather being
hot, we adjourned to a library which had one large window looking north-
wards. After carousing here for an hour or more, I observed that a shade
had com* over the aspect of my friend, who happened to be placed imme-
diately opposite to myself, and said something that intimated a fear of his
being unwell. 'No,' said he, *I shall be well enough presently, if you
will only let me sit where you are, and take my chair ; for there is a con-
founded hand in sight of me here, which has often bothered me before,
and now it won't let me fill my glass with a good will. ' I rose to change
places with him accordingly, and he pointed out to me this hand which,
like the writing on Belshazzar's wall, disturbed his hour of hilarity. * Since
we sat down,' he said, * I have been watching it — it fascinates my eye — it
never stops — page after page is finished and thrown on that heap of MS.,
and still it goes on unwearied — and so it will be till candles are brought in,
and God knows how long after that. It is the same every night — I can't
stand a sight of it when I am not at my books.' — 'Some stupid, dogged,
engrossing clerk, probably,' exclaimed myself, or some other giddy youth
in our society. * No, boys,' said oiir host, * I well know what -hand it is
— 'tis Walter Scott's.' This was the hand that, in the evenings of three
summer weeks, wrote the two last volumes of Waverley." — From the
Memoirs of Sir Walter Scott by J. G. Lockhart.]

(AUTHOR'S DEDICATION— ABBOTSFORD, 1829.)

To THE King's Most Graciods Majesty.

Sire— The Author of this Collection of Works of Fiction would not have pre-
sumed to solicit for them your Majesty's august Patronage were it not that the
perusal has heen supposed in some instances to have succeeded in amusing hours
of relaxation, or relieving those of languor, pain, or anxiety, and therefore must have
80 far aided the warmest wish of Your Majesty's heart, by contributing in however
ainall a degree to the happiness of your People.

They are therefore humbly dedicated to vour Majesty, agreeably to your Qracions
Panulsaion, by your Majesty's dutiful subject

WAI.TXR Scott.

GLOSSAEY

Aboov, alxrve.

Ak, if.

AssTTHMENT, satisfaotlou.

Batf, bang, a blow.

Bailie, Alderman or Magistrate.

Bairn, cliild.

Barley, a truce, from Parler.

Bawbee, halfpenny.

Baxter, baker.

Bbes, in the, excited, bewildered.

Beixuumit, palavered, bamboozled.

Bbqunk, a trick.

Ben, within, intimate.

Bent, bide the, endure misfortune.

>^— tak' the, take to the open country.

Bicker, wooden bowl.

BiELDY, sheltered.

BiooiNQ, building.

BiRLiEMAN, peace-officer.

BoBDLE, copper coin = J of a penny.

Boole about the Bush, beat about the

bush.
BouNE, prepare.
Brander, broil.
Braw, brave, beautiful.
Brogues, Highland shoes.
Broo', sauce or soup.
Bruckle, ticklish, brittle, infirm.
Brulzie, brawl.

Gallant, lad.

Carle, fellow.

Clachan, hamlet.

Clamhewit, hack with an aze.

Clash, jabber.

Claw favour, curry favour.

Coup, fall.

Cow yer cracks, hold your tongueR.

Craig, neck.

Creaoh, GadiCt a raid, spoiL

CuiTTLE, tickle.

DiiL, deviL

VOL. L

Deliver, active.

Dern, dark, secret.

Dlaoul, Gaelic, devil.

Ding, beat, drive, surpass.

Doited, stupid.

Dorlach, Gaelic, valise.

DovERiNO, dozing.

Dow, a dove.

DowFF, deaf.

Dboghlino AND CoGHLiNO, blowlng aod

wheezing.
Duinh£-wassel, GoeZic, gentleman.

Effeir, purtenance.
Btter-cap, cantankerous person.
EviTE, escape.
Ewest, nearest.

Fa'rd, favoured
Feck, part.

Flemit, scared or chased.
Fleyt, chid.
Forbears, forefathers.

Gad, iron bar.

Gate, way, mode, direction.

Gear, property, cattle.

Gin, if.

GiMMER, two years old ewe.

GiTE, noodle.

Gleg, smart.

Gled, kite.

Glisk, sight, quick.

Graning, groaning.

Gree, agree.

Grice, young pig.

GuDEMAN, husband.

Haggis, a Scotch pudding made of minoed

meat, oatmeal, onions, etc.
Hallan, partition at the doorway.
Hantlk, a good many.

2k

498

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Heck and Manger, to live in prodigality,

and unconcern, reckless.
Her', Highland, my.
Her nain sel, myself.
Hership, plunder.
Het, hot.
Hill-folk, name given to Covenanters

(who worahipped on the hills).
HoRSB-couPEB, horae-dealer.

Ilka, each,
Inole, fire.

Kemple, a quantity of straw.
KipPAOE, fluster.
Kittle, tickle, ticklish.
Kyloe, small Highland co"W.

Landlouper, tramp, adventurer.
LiMMER, jade.
Looy, idle fellow.
Lou*, leap.
Luo, the ear.

Mains, farm-house.
Mask, mash, infuse.
Merse, Berwickshire.
MisouoGLE, spoil, blunder.
Moustkd, powdered.

Nan, Gaelic, of.
Nathlebs, nevertheless.
Neb, nose.

OwBR, over.

Over and Terminer, legaZ, hearing and
determining a cause.

Paitrick, partridge.
Panged, stuffed.
Paunie, peacock.
Pinner, a cap with lappets.
Plack, small copper coin.
PoTTiNGER, apothecary.
PowTER, dabble.

QuEAJf, a young woman, a hussy.

Bedding, clearing.
Beise, loose brushwood.
RiNTHEROUTs, cut-throats.
BuDAs, roiigb, cwtankerons.

iW»o«jii 1i> abeta ■aalhbaq

Runt, worn out cow.

Sark, a shirt.

SCART, scratch.

Shanks, legs.

She, Highland, I or He.

Sheers, scissors.

Shilpit, puny-lookii^, sioUy.

Shoon, shoea

SiccAN, such a.

Siller, money.

Sopite, to quiet a brawl.

SowENs, a SOI t of grueL

Spence, best room.

SPRAcr. flvely.

Spbechert, small plunder.

Spulzie, frpoiL

Stirk, a heifer.

Stoor, stubborn.

Stot, a bullock.

Streak, to stroke-down.

Sybo, a sort of onion or raddish.

Syne, since, ago.

Taiglit, drooping and disordereiL

Tailzie, entail.

Tappit-hen, whiskey measure.

Thraw, twist.

Threepit, averred, insisted.

Throstle, the thrush.

Tirrivy, a tantrum.

Tocher, doirry.

TuiLziE, squabble or apree.

Unco, very, particularly.
Unsonct, saucy, dangerous.
Usquebaugh, whiskey.

Vilipend, to hold of no consequence
ViVERS, victuals.

Wadset, pledge.
Wanohanct, unlucky.
Ware, expend, waste.
Warrandice, security.
Weel-far'd, handsome.
Weisino, whisking.
Whebn, a few.
Whilk, which.
Whinoe, to whliie.
Winn A, will not.

Tattc, gate.

INDKX TO WAVEKLEY.

A hA. MoRT, Waveriey ? 183.
A.bercroinby, his adventure with Rob Roy,

455.
Ablution and abstersion at Qlennaquoich,

140.
Absence, efifects of, on a lover, 198.
Adullaia, cave of, 352.
Alice Bean Lean at tlie cave, 125 ; in the

hut. 247 ; how she delivered up Waver-

ley's papers, 405.
Alick Polwarth, "Waverley's servant, 357.
Amhurst, Nicholas, note on, 451.
Anderson of Whitburgh, note on, 460.
Andrea di Ferrara, note on, 462.
^irthur's Seat before the battle, 287.
Author's address to all in general, 169.
ALuthorship of Waveriey, 3.

Ball at Holtrood, 279.

Ballenkeiroch refuses to drink Waverley's
health, 142 ; and Bradwardine after the
battle, 308.

Balmawhapple, Laird of, 73 ; quarrel at
Luckie Macleary's, 80 ; apology to Wa-
veriey, 84 ; rencontre with Bradwardine,
97 ; escorts Waveriey from Doune, 255 ;
death of, at Preston, 306 ; note on, 462.

Ban and Buscar, Bradwardine's dogs, 86,
418.

Banquet at Tully-Veolan, 74.

Bard at Qlennaquoich, 143, 150.

Battle song of Flora Mac-Ivor's, 155.

Bean Lean, Donald, interview in his cave,
120 ; raid on the bridegroom Gillie-
whackit, 130 ; Flora's dislike to, 161 ;
intriguing with Waverley's seal, 325 ;
end of, and confession, 383 ; how he
rescued Waveriey, 404.

Bear, the blessed, of Bradwardine, 76;
restored, 446; prototype at Glammis,
453.

deaivjeu, (Jointa de. 3G1.

Birch-trees, fragrance from, 118.

Black mail refused by Bradwardine, 106,
108 ; note on, 454.

Bradwardine, Baron, origin of acquaint-
ance, 61 ; receives Waveriey, 70-72 ; his
view of literatui-e, 90; the barony in
male fief, 100 ; quarrel with Mac-Ivor,
108, 148 ; in Edinburgh, 270 • at evening
service with his troop, &00; dilemma
about pulling off the Prince's boots,
309 ; performs the ceremony, 320 ; in
concealment, 395 ; receives his pardon,
415-417; recovers the " Blessed Bear,"
446.

Bridal favours for Fergus, 180 ; garment
for Fergus, 426.

Bridal song in Queenhoo HaU, 488.

Bodach Glas or Grey Spectre, 367, 430.

Boots, service of, by Baron Bradwardine
309, 320.

Buchan, Mrs., of the Greenlaw inn, 453.

Byron and the authorship of Waveriey, 15

Cairnvreckan Village, 207.

Galium Beg, objections to character of 4 ,
accompanies Waveriey south, 199 ; in
Edinburgh, 286 ; aims at Colonel Gard-
iner, 299 ; fires at Waveriey, 357.

Canting heraldry, 99.

Cameronians, 231.

Cannon in the Highland army, 291 note
on, 459.

Canongate, Waverley's lodgings in, 267.

Carlisle, Mac-Ivor a prisoner in, and ex-
ecution at, 421-432.

Caterans at Tully-Veolan, 105; note on,
455.

Cathleen's song of "Colley my cow," 158.

Cattle-lifters respected by the High-
landers, 127.

Cervantes' "Open your gates, incompar
able Priocosa>" 170.

600

WAVEELEY NOVELS.

Chapter, shall this be a long or a short? 162.

Charles Edward. See Prince.

Chief, Highland, description of, 114, 134 ;
hospitality reqiiired from, 142.

Clans at the battle of Prestonpans, 289-
303.

Clifton, skirmish at, 369, 374 ; M'Pherson's
account of, 466.

Conan the jester, note on, 457.

Cope, General, 298, 460.

Country gentlemen, effect of political per-
secution on, 159.

Courage, more, required to run away than
to tight, 333.

Coursing the roe, 89.

Crieff, kind gallows at, 455.

Creagh on Tully-Veolan, 104.

Cruickshanks, Ebenezer, 200-205.

Cruden, Alexander, 5.

Curiosity and courage, 247.

Dance at Glennaquoich, 161.

Deer, charge of, 164.

Desk, author's old, 11.

Dinner-table, Scotch, note on, 456.

Dirk, oath upon, 468.

Discipline among the Highlanders, 456.

Donald Bean Lean. See Bean.

Doune Castle, note on, 458.

Dress, change in, 24.

Drumming the 119th Psalm, 284.

Duchran, happy meeting at, 418.

Duelling, pretext for, 355.

Dyer's Weekly Letter, 27.

Eaolb at Bally-Brough, 115.

Ebrius and ebriosus, 84.

Edgeworth, Miss, her literary achieve-
ments, 9.

Edinburgh approached by Balmawhapple
and Waverley, 260.

Education, ancient and modem, 33.

Ennerdale, Lord, fragment of a letter, 475.

Episcopalians in Scotland persecuted, 74.

Erskine, Rev. John, D.D., 212.

Falconer, Mr. See Balmawhapple.

False love, and hast thou played me
thus? 66.

Fergus. See Mac-Ivor.

Fiction, author's appetite for, 7.

Fifteen Scotch judges, 257.

Flockhart, widow, and her lodgers, 273,
389.

Flora Mac-Ivor's first interview at Glen-
naquoich, 145, 146; her retreat by the
waterfall. 152, 155; fascinates Waver-

ley, 163 ; meeting with Waverley aftei
his disgrace, 180 ; declines Waverley's
suit, 187 ; at Holyrood, 279 : accident-
ally wounded by a Highlander, 322;
her solicitude for Rose, and opinion of
Waverley, 331-333; making Fergus's
" bridal garment," 426.

Gardiner, Colonel, 56; first letter to
Waverley, 103 ; orders Waverley to re-
turn, 175; fall of, at Preston, 305;
note on, 451 ; Doddridge's description
of, 460.

Gellatley, David, reception of Waver-
ley, 66 ; described by Rose, 87 ; arrival at
Glennaquoich, 191 ; his song and dance,
192 ; shows himself among the ruins of
Tully-Veolan, 394.

Gellatley, Janet, the witch, 95.

Genealogical stories narrated to Waverley
38.

GilfiUan, gifted, and his volunteers, 234:
surprised by the Highlanders, 241.

Gilliewhackit carried off by Donald Bean,
130.

Glammis Castle, note on, 453.

Glenaladale, where Prince Charles landed,
155.

Glennaquoich House, and entertainments
at, 138-140.

Qreen-Breeks, 490.

Hail to thee, thou holy herb ! 166.
Hanover, House of, Mac-Ivor's declamn-

tion, 178.
Helots among the Highlanders, 290.
Hie away, over bank, over brae, 88.
Highland chief and his "tail," 114.

discipline, note on, 456.

fling or reel at Glennaquoich, 192.

poetry, 150.

policy, note on, 456.

politeness, 199.

surgery, 165.

village sixty years ago, 59.
Highlanders, dislike to, by Talbot, 349

march into England, 351.
His bairns 1 211.

Hog in har'st at Glennaquoich, 141.
Holyrood entered by Waverley, 261 ; ball

at, 279.
Home, author of " Douglas," escape from

Doune, 458.
Houghton, Sergeant, 217; found dying,
294; incited to mutiny by Ruffin, 326.
Hunt at Glennaquoich, 163, 167.

INDEX.

60}

I314OINATI0NS of Waverley, 40.
Innocents, 69.

Inns, Scottish, note on, 452.
To d'Elicona niente, 158.
Irish officers, note on, 459.
Irving, John, 6.

Jacobite sentiments in England, 458 ;

sympathisers, author's acquaintance

with, 448.
James of the Needle, 273.
Janet, old, 398.

Jesters kept by the nobility, 69.
Jopson, Jacob, shelters Waver) ey, 372,

387.

KiLLANCUBKiT described by Bradwardine,

73.
Kind gallows of Crieflf, note on, 455.

Lantern, Mac-Farlane's, 457.

Ledeard waterfall, 457.

Letters from home, 170.

Library at Waverley-Honour, 34.

Lillibulero bullen a la, 278.

Lindsay of Pitscottie, his Athole hunt,

162.
Lovat, Lord, his rule at dinner, 457.
Love, early, frequently ambitious, 102.
Luckie Macleary's inn, and quarrel in,

77-80.
Lude, hunt, commemorated by Qunn,

163.

Maccombich, Evan Dhu, embassy to
Tully-Veolan about the cattle, 112 ; in
Edinburgh, 273; warns "Waverley of
assassination, 356 ; offers to die for his
chief, 423.

Mac-Farlane's lantern, note on, 457.

Mac-Ivor, Fergus, 131-137; compared
with his sister, 145; his song at the
waterfall, .158; incites Waverley to
rebellion, 177, 184 ; meets Waverley at
Holyrood, 261 ; rejected in his suit,
335 ; quarrels with Waverley, 353, 369 ;
gees the "Bodach Glas," 366; made
prisoner at Clifton, 370 ; condemned to
death, 422, 428.

Mac-Ivor, Flora. See Flora.

Macleary. See Luckie.

Macwheeble, Bailie, 74, 75 ; in Edinburgh,
275 ; on the battle-field, 313 ; immersed
In his papers, 409, 410 ; reads the as-
signation of Tully-Veolan, 442.

Mac-Murrough the Bard, 143.

Mao-Vicar's prayer for Prince Charles, 821.

Manners, change in, chleflj external, 24.

Matrimony described by Flora, 160, 188.

Melville, Major, of Caimvreckan, 213, 222.

Military education, 57.

Mirkwood Mere, sonnet, 46.

Morrison Fynes, his travels in Scotland,

466.
Morton, minister of Caimvreckan, 212;

visits Waverley in his confinement, 228.
Mucklewrath, the smith of Caimvreckan,

208.
Murray, William, formerly Manager ol

Theatre Royal, Edinburgh, 146.
My heart's in the Highlands, 191.
My Master I 128.

Nairke, Miss, note on, 463.
Newspaper temp. Waverley, 27.
Nosebag, Mrs., 378.

Notes to Waverley, author's apology for,
18.

Oath upon the dirk, note on, 468.

Oggara hieroglyphic, 196.

O Lady of the desert, hail I 158.

O vous, qui buvez, k tasse pleine, 158.

Paul Jones in Firth of Forth, 493.

Pedlar that joins Gilfillan, 239.

Pembroke the tutor, his interview with
the bookseller, 53 ; letter of ten folio
pages, 171 ; in the " Priest's Hole," 435.

Picara Justina Diez, history of, 133.

Pinkie House, near Musselburgh, 317.

Polonaise dress worn by Scotch boys, 165

Pork abhorred by the Scotch, 141.

Prestonpans battle-field, 296-304.

Prince Charles at Holyrood, 262 ; separates
the combatants, 360 ; his alacrity at
Prestonpans, 460 ; defence of, by the
author, note, 463.

QuEENHOo Hall, edited by the author of
Waverley, 10, 479.

Rachel, Aunt, 89, 55 ; letter from, in-
quiring about Rose, 174.

Rank and ancestry, 74.

Ravelston garden, 64.

Reading desultory, 35.

Rhymer, Thomas the, 470.

Robertson, Rev. Dr., 212.

Rob Roy, note on, 455.

Romance, characters requisite to make
interesting, 24.

Uomeo and Juliet, opinions on, 841.

502

WAVERLEY NOVELS.

Rose Bradwardine, 69 ; apartment at TuUy-
Veolan, 92, 93, 99, 101, 102 ; described
by Flora, 159 ; letter to Waverley, 192 ;
at Holyrood, 284 ; her interest in Waves-
ley, 331, 340; assists him when a
prisoner at Caimvreckan, 405.

Kubrick the clergyman, his conscience,
75.

Kubrick of the Duchran, 419.

KuflEln. See Bean, Donald.

St. Johnstonr's tippet, 257.

Bt. Swithin's chair, sonnet, 94.

Saunderson, Alex., butler at Tully-Veolan.
67, 72.

School-days, anecdote of author's, 489.

Scotland, effects of the Jacobite rebellion
upon, 447.

Scott, Thos., supposed author of '* Waver-
ley," 17 ; his tale of fiction, 489.

Second sighted persons, 121.

Sidier Dhu, 129.

Biddons, Mrs. Henry, 145.

Skene-occle, or Highland knife, 203.

Society, dislike to, 87.

Spontoon, CoL Talbot's servant, 881.

Stag's horn, wound from, 165.

Steakraid, 160.

Stewart, governor of Doune Castle, 253.

Stewart of Invemahyle, note on, 492.

Stirling Castle defied by Balmawhapple,
258.

Strutt, Joseph, posthumous works, 10.

Stubbs, Cecilia, flirtation with, 42.

Stirrup cup, note on, 453

Superstitions, surgery in the Highlands,

Talbot, Colonel, Waverley's prisoner, 312 ;
character and opinions of, 329 ; receives
ill tidings from home, 343 ; gets leave
to return home from Prince Charles,
347 ; receives Waverley into his house
in London, 38ft ; letter to Waverley with
pardon for him and Bradwardine, 413 ;
at Tully-Veolan, festivities, 440 ; pro-
tection of, by Waverley, note on, 492.

Tartans distinctive of clans, 243.

Taylor's hunt in the braes of Mar, 162

There is mist on the mountain, 155.

Thieves, Highland gentlemen, 127.

Thomas the Khymer, fragment of a
romance, 470, 473.

Three things useless to a Highlander, 149.

Tinchel, a mode of driving the deer, 163.

Titus Liviua, attachment to, 451.

To an oak-tree, 204.

Trimmel the bookseller, 54.

Tully-Veolan, village, 58; Manor-house
and garden, 62, 65 ; ereagh on, from tho
Highlands, 104 ; revisited by Waverley,
desolation, 392 ; restored, festivities at.

Ubeda, Francisco, a hair in his pen, 138.

Unction, extreme, Donald Bean's idea of,

383.

Venison of the roe, 86.

Vich Ian Vohr. See Mac- Ivor, FergoB.

Von Eulen, journal of, 478.

Waken, lords and ladies gay, 480.

Washing scene at Tully-Veolan, 65.

Watch found by the Highlanders, 307.

Waterfall at Glennaquoich, 153 ; note on,
457.

"Waverley," authorship and origin of,
3, 5, 9, 14, 21, 494 ; revision of the.
Novels, 1.

Waverley, Edward's first interview with
his uncle, 30 ; education at the hall, 32 ;
choice of a profession, 43 ; military
education, 57; reception of, at Tully-
Veolan, 65 ; journey to Glennaquoich,
114 ; health drunk by Mac-Ivor, 142 ;
emotions towards Flora, 154 ; his loyalty
incited by the bard, 157 ; loss of his
seal, 160 ; wounded in the stag-hunt,
and conveyed to Tomanrait, 165-168;
returns to Glennaquoich (letters from
home), 169 ; ordered to return to his
regiment, 175; undoes the "sable
cockade," 181 ; last meeting with Flora
at the waterfall, 187 ; "inquired after"
by the soldiers at Tully-Veolan, 193;
leaves Glennaquoich, 197 ; detained at
the village of Caimvreckan, 207; exa-
mined before Major Melville, 213 ;
rescued from GilfiUan, 241 ; night
adventure, 250 ; arrives at Doune Castle,
252 ; leaves for Edinburgh escorted by
Balmawhapple, 255 ; presented by
Mac-Ivor to Prince Charles, 262 ;
assumes the Mac-Ivor tartan, 268, 273 ;
repulsed by Flora at Holyrood, 280 ;
commences the march, 286; saves
Colonel Talbot's life at Prestonpans,
803 ; discovers the missing letters and
the plot against him, 324 ; his court-
ships in Edinburgh, 330 ; changes his
affections, 339 ; quarrel with Mac-Ivor;

n

INDEX.

508

96 S ; gets separated from the High-
Ixnderg at Clifton, 371 ; journey to
London, 377 ; return to Scotland, 388 ;
receives explanations of past events,
403 ; an accepted lover, 419 ; leaves for
Carlisle to intercede for Mac-Ivor, 421 ;
returns to Waverley-Honour, 434 ; nup-
tials at Tully-Veolan. 436.

Waverley, Sir Everard, his will and court-
ship, 28, 29 ; his political susceptibilities,
44 ; parting advice to his nephew, 49 ;
letter to his nephew, 174.

Waverley, Richard, estrangement from

his brother, 25 ; political iiitrigue and

fall, 172 ; death of, 876.
Whisky among the Highlanders, 123.
Whitefoord, Colonel, note on, 492,
Wilibert of Waverley, the crusader, 38.
Williams, Ned, caught sweethearting

372.
Witchcraft in Scotland, 96.
Wogan, Captain, 182 : sung by Flora,

203.

YouNO Men will love thee ntore fair and
more fast, 97.

END OF "WAVERLEY.

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