Border Edition 
 
 IntroduGtorj EssajB and Notes 
 Andrew-. 
 
CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME 
 OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT 
 FUND GIVEN IN 1 89 1 BY 
 
 HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PR 5315 1892 
 
 v.i-4e 
 
 Waverly novels; 
 
 3 1924 013 544 501 
 
The original of tliis book is in 
 tlie Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013544501 
 
WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 FORTY-EIGHT VOLUMES 
 VOLUME I. 
 
'BORDER SDITION 
 
 The Introductory Essays and Notes by Andrew Lang to this Edition q/ 
 the Waverlcy Novels are Copyright 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT 
 
WAV ERL EY 
 
 'Uis Sfsts lears Since 
 
 Sir WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 
 
 mTH INTRODUCTORY SSSAT AND {J^OTES 
 By ANDREW LANG 
 
 TWELVE ETCHINGS 
 
 VOLUME I. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 JOHN C. NIMMO 
 
 14, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND 
 
 MDCCCXCII 
 

 
 A.to^&'Vy 
 
 Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co. 
 A t the Ballantyne Press^ Edinburgh 
 
 ' ■ ' I. ■' 
 
 I IK) c^ 
 
THIS EDITION OF THE WAVERLEY NOVELS, 
 
 THE BORDER EDITION, 
 
 IS DEDICATED BY THE PUBLISHER 
 
 TO 
 
 THE HON. MRS. MAXWELL SCOTT OF ABBOTSFORD 
 
 AND HER CHILDREN, 
 
 WALTER, MARY, MICHAEL, ALICE, MALCOLM. 
 
 MARGARET, AND HERBERT, 
 
 GREAT-GRANDDAUGHTER AND GREAT-GREAT-GRANDCHILDREN 
 
 OF THE AUTHOR 
 
Zbe IRlng's *ost ©racfous Majestg. 
 
 SlKE, 
 
 The Author of this Collection of Works of Fiction would 
 not have presumed to solicit for them your Majesty's august patron- 
 age, were it not that the perusal has been supposed in some instances 
 to have succeeded in amusing hours of relaxation, or relieving those 
 of languor, pain, or anxiety, and therefore must have so far aided the 
 warmest wish of your Majest/s heart, by contributing in however 
 small a degree to the happiness of your people. 
 
 They are therefore humbly dedicated to your Majesty, agreeably 
 to your gracious permission, by 
 
 Your Majesty's Dutiful Subject, 
 
 WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 Abbotsford, 
 
 1st January, iSzg. 
 
LIST OF ETCHINGS. 
 
 PRINTED BY F. GOULDING, LONDON. 
 
 VOLUME THE FIRST. 
 
 PoBTEAiT OP SiH Walteh Scott. Painted by Sir Henry 
 
 Raeburn, R.A. Etched by H. W. Batley . Frontispiece 
 
 Abbotsfoed (from the Tweed). Drawn by D. Herdman. 
 
 Etched by D. Y. Cameron . . . To face paije Ixxii 
 
 Tully-Veolan. Painted by W. J. Leitoh. Etched by 
 
 H. W. Batley 64 
 
 Wavbkley and Rose Bhadwaedine. Painted by 
 
 Robert Herdman, R.S.A. Etched by Ben. Damman 120 
 
 Hold op a Highland Robbee. Drawn and Etched 
 
 by R. W. Macbeth, A.R.A 152 
 
 Eloea Mac-Ivoe at the Wateepall. Drawn and 
 
 Etched by R. W. Macbeth, A.R.A. . . . 20S 
 
EDITOK'S NOTE. 
 
 The purpose of the added matter in this edition of the 
 Waverley Novels — a reprint of the magnum opus of 
 1829-1832 — is to give to the stories their historical 
 setting, by stating the circumstances in which they 
 were composed and made their first appearance. 
 
 Sir Walter's own delightful Introductions, written 
 hastily, as Lockhart says, and with a failing memory, 
 have occasionally been corrected by Lockhart himself. 
 His " Life of Scott " must always be our first and best 
 source, but fragments of information may be gleaned 
 from Sir Walter's unpublished correspondence. 
 
 The Editor owes to the kindness of Mrs. Maxwell 
 Scott permission to examine the twenty-four large 
 volumes of letters to Sir Walter, and some other manu- 
 scripts, which are preserved at Abbotsford. These 
 yield but little of contemporary criticism or remark, 
 as is natural, for Scott shared his secret with few, and 
 most topics were more grateful to him than his own 
 writings. Lockhart left little for his successors to 
 do, and the more any one studies the Abbotsford manu- 
 scripts, the more must he admire the industry and tact 
 of Scott's biographer. 
 
 The Editor has also put together some examples of 
 contemporary published criticism which it is now not 
 uninteresting to glance over. In selecting these he 
 has been aided by the kindness of Mrs. Ogilbie. 
 From the Abbotsford manuscripts and other sources 
 he has added notes on points which have become ob- 
 
X EDITOR'S NOTE. 
 
 scure by lapse of time. He has especially to thank, 
 for their courteous and ready assistance, Lady Napier 
 and Ettrick, who lent him Sir Walter's letters to her 
 kinswoman, the Marchioness of Abercorn; Mr. David 
 Douglas, the editor and publisher of Scott's "Jour- 
 nal," who has generously given the help of his anti- 
 quarian knowledge; and Mr. David MacEitchie, who 
 permitted him to use the corrected proofs of " Eed- 
 gauhtlet." 
 
 AsTDEEw Lang. 
 
 London, November 1892. 
 
ADVEKTISEMENT. 
 
 It has been the occasional occupation of the Author of 
 "Waverley" for several years past to revise and cor- 
 rect 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 which they have been honoured ever since their 
 first appearance. For a long period, however, it 
 seemed likely that the improved and illustrated Edi- 
 tion which he meditated would be a posthumous publi- 
 cation; but the course of the events which occasioned 
 the disclosure of the Author's name having in a great 
 measure restored to him a sort of parental control over 
 these Worts, 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 pro- 
 posed 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 character 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, . how- 
 ever just, by altering a work already in the hands of 
 the public, is generally unsuccessful. In the most 
 
xii ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 improvable fiction, the reader still desires some air of 
 vraisemllance, 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 ob- 
 served even in children, who cannot endure that a nur- 
 sery story should be 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 be 
 wondered at, when it is considered that the Publishers 
 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 be 
 found free from errors of that accidental kind. 
 
 The Author has also ventured to make some emenda- 
 tions of a different character, which, without being 
 such apparent deviations from the original stories as 
 to disturb the reader's old associations, will, he thinks, 
 add something to the spirit of the dialogue, narrative, 
 or description. These consist in occasional pruning 
 where the language is redundant, compression where 
 the style is loose, infusion of vigour where it is lan- 
 guid, the exchange of less forcible for more appropriate 
 epithets, — slight alterations, in short, like the last 
 touches of an artist, which contribute to heighten and 
 finish the picture, though 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 con- 
 tain an- account of such circumstances attending the 
 first publication of the Novels and Tales as may appear 
 interesting in themselves, or proper to be communi- 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. xiii 
 
 cated 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 groundwork of these Novels, and to give 
 some account of the places where the scenes are laid, 
 when these are altogether, or in part, real, as well as a 
 statement of particular incidents founded on fact; 
 together with a more copious Glossary, and Notes ex- 
 planatory of the ancient customs and popular supersti- 
 tions 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 undergoing 
 his careful revision. 
 
 ABBOisrOKD, January 1829. 
 
GENERAL PEEEACE 
 
 TO THE FIRST EDITION OF WAVERLEY. 
 
 And must I ravel out 
 
 My weaved-up follies ? 
 
 Richard II. Act IV. 
 
 Hating undertaken to give an Introductory Account 
 of the compositions wticli 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 him- 
 self and his personal concerns than may perhaps be 
 either graceful or prudent. In this particular he runs 
 the risk of presenting himself to the public in the re- 
 lation that the dumb wife 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 for- 
 mer condition. But this is a risk inseparable from the 
 task which the Author has undertaken, and he can 
 only promise to be as little of an egotist as the situa- 
 tion 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 ap- 
 pears to him that the seeming modesty connected with 
 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 
 
xvi GENERAIi PREFACE. , 
 
 third person is used, from the Commentaries of Cfesar, 
 to the Autobiography of Alexander the Corrector, (a) ^ 
 
 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 distinguished character for that 
 talent, at a time when the applause of my companions 
 was my recompense for the disgraces and punishments 
 which the future romance-writer incurred for being 
 idle himself, and keeping others idle, during hours 
 that should have been employed on our tasks. The 
 chief enjoyment of my holidays was to escape with a 
 chosen friend (b), who had the same taste with myself, 
 and alternately to recite to each other such wild adven- 
 tures 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 bringing them to a conclusion. As we 
 observed a strict secrecy on the subject, of this inter- 
 course, 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 ro- 
 mantic environs of Arthur's Seat, Salisbury Crags, 
 Braid Hills, and similar places in the vicinity of Edin- 
 burgh; 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 oc- 
 cupied with graver business to thank me for indi- 
 cating him more plainly as a confidant of my childish 
 mystery. 
 
 When boyhood advancing into youth required more 
 
 1 See Editor's Notes at the end of the Volume. Wherever 
 a similar reference occurs, the reader wiU understand that the same 
 direction applies. 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. xvii 
 
 serious studies and graver cares, a long illness threw 
 me back on the kingdom of fiction, as if it were hy 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 con- 
 fined 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 in- 
 formed 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 in- 
 dispensable, he will not be surprised that I was aban- 
 doned 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 Edin- 
 burgh, — founded, I believe, by the celebrated Allan 
 Eamsay, — which, besides containing a most respect- 
 able collection of books of every description, was, as 
 might have been expected, peculiarly rich in works of 
 fiction. It exhibited specimens of every kind, 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 was allowed to do nothing save read from morn- 
 ing to night. I was, in kindness and pity, — which 
 was perhaps erroneous, 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 
 
 b 
 
xviii GENERAL PREFACE, 
 
 and appetite were gratified in nothing else, I indemni- 
 fied myself by becoming a glutton of books. Accord- 
 ingly, 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 permitted me. Familiar acquaintance with the 
 specious miracles of fiction brought with it some degree 
 of satiety, and I began, by degrees, to seek in histo- 
 ries, memoirs, voyages and travels, and the like, 
 events nearly as wonderful as those which were the 
 work of imagination, 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, (c) where I was 
 again very lonely but for the amusement which I de- 
 rived 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 situa- 
 tion, the passages concerning whose course of read- 
 ing were imitated from recollections of my own. It 
 must be understood that the resemblance extends no 
 farther. 
 
 Time, as it glided on, brought the blessings of con- 
 firmed 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 oc- 
 cupied the greater part of my time, and the society of 
 my friends and companions who were about to enter life 
 along with me, filled up the interval with the usual 
 amusements of young men. I was in a situation which 
 rendered serious labour indispensable; for neither pos- 
 
GENERAL PEEEACE. xix 
 
 sessing, on the one hand, any of those peculiar advan- 
 tages which are supposed to favour a hasty advance in 
 the profession of the law, nor being, on the other hand, 
 exposed to unusual obstacles to interrupt my progress, 
 I might reasonably expect to succeed according 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 otherwise than by being 
 wtitten in verse. But yet I may observe that about 
 this time (now, alas! thirty years since) I had nour- 
 ished 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, think- 
 ing some readers may account as curious the first at- 
 tempts at romantic composition by an author who has 
 since written so much in that department.^ And those 
 who complain, not imreasonably, 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 had 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 
 1 See the fragment alluded to, in the Appendix, No. I. 
 
XX GENERAL PREFACE. 
 
 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 1746, 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 civilized 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. 
 
 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 was advertised to be 
 published by the late Mr. John Ballantyne, bookseller 
 in Edinburgh, under the name of " Waverley; or, 't is 
 Fifty Years since," — a title afterwards altered to 
 " 'T is Sixty Years since," that the actual date of 
 publication might be made to correspond 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 repu- 
 tation, I was unwilling to risk the loss of it by at- 
 tempting a new style of composition. I therefore 
 threw aside the work I had commenced, without either 
 reluctance or remonstrance. I ought to add that 
 though my ingenious friend's sentence was afterwards 
 
GENERAL PREEACE. xxi 
 
 reversed, on an appeal to the public, it cannot be con- 
 sidered as any imputation on bis good taste; for the 
 specimen subjected to his criticism did not extend be- 
 yond the departure of the hero for Scotland, and, con- 
 sequently, 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 for- 
 gotten. Thus though I sometimes, among other liter- 
 ary 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 oftep laid aside all thoughts of that nature. 
 
 Two circumstances in particular recalled my recol- 
 lection 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 gaj' and 
 kind-hearted neighbours of Ireland that she may be 
 truly said to have done more towards completing the 
 Union than perhaps all the legislative enactments by 
 which it has been followed up. 
 
 Without being so presumptuous as to hope to emu- 
 late the rich humour, pathetic tenderness, and admir- 
 able tact which pervade the works of my accomplished 
 friend, I felt that something might be attempted for 
 my own country, of the same kind with that which 
 Miss Edgeworth 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 to procure 
 sympathy for their virtues, and indulgence for their 
 
xxii GENERAL PREFACE. 
 
 foibles. I thouglit, also, tliat much of what I wanted 
 in talent might be made up by the intimate acquaint- 
 ance with the subject which I could lay claim to 
 possess, as having travelled through most parts of 
 Scotiand, 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 countrymen, from 
 the Scottish peer to the Scottish ploughman. Such 
 ideas often occurred to me, and constituted an ambi- 
 tious 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 indo- 
 lence. 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 workman. 
 
 In the year 1807-1808, I undertook, at the request of 
 John Murray, Esq., of Albemarle Street, to arrange for 
 publication some posthumous 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 was 
 written to illustrate the manners, customs, and lan- 
 guage of the people of England during that period. 
 The extensive acquaintance which Mr. Strutt had ac- 
 quired with such subjects in compiling his laborious 
 "Horda Angel Cynnan," his " Eoyal and Ecclesiasti- 
 cal 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 al- 
 though the manuscript bore the marks of hurry and 
 incoherence natural to the first rough draught of the 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. xxiii 
 
 Author, it evinced, in my opinion, considerable powers 
 of imagination. 
 
 As the Wort was unfinished, I deemed it my duty, 
 as Editor, to supply such a hasty and inartificial con- 
 clusion as could he 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 ro- 
 mantic composition ; and to preserve the traces of these 
 is in a great measure the object of this Essay. ■' 
 
 " Queenhoo Hall " was not, however, very success- 
 ful. I thought I was aware of the reason, and supposed 
 that, by rendering his language too ancient, and dis- 
 playing 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 Mauritanian music: "What sig- 
 nifies 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 was, on the 
 other hand, so far discouraged by the indifferent re- 
 ception 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 
 
 1 See Appendix, No. II. 
 
Tcxiv GENERAL PREFACE. 
 
 chance of popularity than a tale of chivalry. My 
 thoughts, therefore, returned 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 fishing-tackle for the use 
 of a guest, when it occurred to me to search the old 
 writing-desk already mentioned, 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 work to complete 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, how- 
 ever, the road I wanted to travel, and permitted 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 jSTovels 
 in which I have transgressed so widely as in the first 
 of the series. 
 
 Among other unfounded reports, it has been said 
 that the copyright of "Waverley" was, during the 
 book's progress through the press, offered for sale to 
 various booksellers in London at a very inconsiderable 
 price. This was not the case. Messrs. Constable and 
 Cadell, who published the work, were the only persons 
 acquainted with the contents of the publication, and 
 they offered a large sum for it while in the course of 
 
GENERAL PRETACE. xxv 
 
 printing, wliich, 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 prefixed to that Romance in 
 this Edition, and require no notice in this place. 
 
 '"Waverley" was published in 1814; and as the 
 title-page was without the name of the Author, the 
 work was left to win its way in the world without any 
 of the usual recommendations. Its progress 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 precaiitions were used to 
 preserve secrecy. My old friend and schoolfellow, Mr. 
 James Ballantyne, who printed these Novels, had the 
 exclusive task of corresponding with the Author, who 
 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 confi- 
 dential persons ; nor was there an instance of treachery 
 during the many years in which these precautions were 
 resorted to, although various individuals were employed 
 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 
 
xxvi GENERAL PRBEACE. 
 
 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 " Wa- 
 verley " was doubtful, was natural enough, it is more 
 difficult, it may he thought, to account 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 work. I am sorry 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 
 Shylock, that such was my humour. It will be ob- 
 served that I had not the usual stimulus for desir- 
 ing 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 contented a mind more ambitious than 
 mine; and in entering into this new contest for rep- 
 utation, 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 were 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 
 
GENERAL PllEFACE. xxvii 
 
 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 mis- 
 tress'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 ungra- 
 cious 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 knowledge 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 litera- 
 ture, I might have been charged with too frequent 
 intrusions on the public patience ; but the Author of 
 "Waverley" was in this respect as impassible to the 
 critic as the Ghost of Hamlet to the partisan of Mar- 
 cellus. Perhaps the curiosity of the public, irritated 
 by the existence of a secret, and kept afloat by the dis- 
 cussions which took place on the subject from time to 
 time, went a good way to maintain an unabated inter- 
 est in these frequent publications. There was a mys- 
 tery concerning the Author which each new Novel was 
 expected to assist in unravelling, although it might in 
 other respects 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 liter- 
 ary labours. It is in every case a dangerous inter- 
 course for an author to be dwelling continually among 
 
xxviii GENERAli PREFACE. 
 
 tliose wlio make his writings a frequent and familiar 
 subject of conversation, but 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-con- 
 ceit were left to their natural course, without being en- 
 hanced 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 characterized, to speak craniologically, by an 
 extraordinary development of the passion for delites- 
 cency ! 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, when 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 be followed. Either I 
 must have surrendered 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 had a right to force from me, since I 
 alone was concerned in the matter. The alternative of 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. xxix 
 
 rendering a doubtful answer must have left me open to 
 the degrading suspicion that I was not unwilling to 
 assume the merit (if there 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 be 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 what 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 have been far too great to permit any of my famil- 
 iar 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 own 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 
 
XXX GENERAL PREFACE. 
 
 discovery ; but as I maintained my point with the com- 
 posure 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 Murray'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 precipi- 
 tate retreat." I have no recollection whatever of this 
 scene taking place, and I should have thought 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 expressed himself, I knew his 
 opinion was entirely formed, and that any disclama- 
 tions of mine would only have savoured of affectation. I 
 do not mean to insinuate that the incident did not hap- 
 pen, but only that it could hardly have occurred exactly 
 under the circumstances narrated, without my recollect- 
 ing something positive on the subject. In another part 
 of the same volume Lord Byron is reported to have ex- 
 pressed a supposition that the cause of my not avowing 
 myself the Author of " Waverley " may have been some 
 surmise that the reigning family would have been dis- 
 pleased 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 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. xxxi 
 
 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 oppo- 
 nents, who did nothing in hate, but all in honour. 
 
 While 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 investigating 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 be employed on a subject of much greater 
 importance; and I have no doubt made converts to his 
 opinion of almost all who thought the point worthy of 
 consideration.'' Of those letters, and other attempts of 
 the same kind, the Author could not complain, though 
 his incognito was endangered. He had challenged the 
 public to a game at bo-peep, and if he was discovered 
 in his "hiding-hole," he must submit to the shame of 
 detection. 
 
 Various reports were of course circulated in various 
 ways, — some founded on an inaccurate 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 who 
 might perhaps imagine that the readiest mode of forc- 
 ing the Author to disclose 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 prin- 
 
 1 Letters on the Author of Waverley. Rodwell and Martin, 
 London, 1822. {d} 
 
xxxii GENERAL PREFACE. 
 
 cipally 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 
 probability, 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 Seventieth Eegiment, 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 so- 
 ciety, and that the habit of composition alone was 
 wanting to render him equally successful as a writer. 
 The Author of " Waverley" was so persuaded of the 
 truth of this that he warmly pressed his brother to 
 make such an experiment, and willingly undertook all 
 the trouble of correcting and superintending the press. 
 Mr. Thomas Scott seemed at first very well disposed to 
 embrace the proposal, 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 daunt- 
 less 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 accuracy 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 strik- 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. xxxiii 
 
 ing 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 
 him for literary labour, even if he could have recon- 
 ciled 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 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 con- 
 siderable 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 
 likeljr 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 booksellers 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 composition of the 
 Author by whom they are now acknowledged, with the 
 exception, always, of avowed quotations, and such un- 
 premeditated and involuntary plagiarisms as can scarce 
 be guarded against by any one who has read and writ- 
 ten 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 ill- 
 1 See Appendix, No. III. 
 
xxxiv GENERAL PREEACE. 
 
 ness, he was obliged to employ the assistance of a 
 friendly amanuensis. 
 
 The number of persons to whom the secret was neces- 
 sarily intrusted, 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 their 
 trust, until the derangement of the affairs of my pub- 
 lishers, Messrs. Constable and Co., and the exposure of 
 their accompt books, which was the necessary conse- 
 quence, rendered secrecy no longer possible. The par- 
 ticulars 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 have some reason to 
 fear that the Notes which accompany the Tales, as now 
 published, may be thought too miscellaneous 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, be- 
 cause 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 desirous rather to exceed in the portion 
 of new and explanatory matter which is added to this 
 Edition, than that the reader should have reason to 
 complain that the information communicated 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 
 looking 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 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. xxxv 
 
 day of favour and popularity must be admitted with 
 sincere gratitude; and the Autlior 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 encouragement of British art, by illustra- 
 ting this Edition 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 sometiihes abused or trifled with the indulgence 
 of the public, he feels himself entitled to full belief, 
 when he exculpates himself from the charge of having 
 been at any time insensible of their kindness. 
 
 Aeeotsfoed, 
 
 1st January, 1829. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 No. I.i 
 
 FRAGMENT OF A ROMANCE WHICH WAS TO 
 HAVE BEEN ENTITLED 
 
 THOMAS THE EHYMER 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 The sun was nearly set behind the distant mountains 
 of Liddesdale, when a few of the scattered and terrified 
 inhabitants of the village of Hersildoun, 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 suf- 
 fered nothing from the violence of the invaders; and 
 the wretched beings who were endeavouring to repair 
 their miserable huts against nightfall, seemed to neg- 
 lect the preferable shelter which it might have afforded 
 them, without the necessity of labour. 
 
 - It is not to be supposed that these fragments are given as 
 possessing any intrinsic 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 artist. 
 
xxxviii APPENDIX TO 
 
 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 sound 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." The knight endeavoured 
 to expostulate with the fugitives, who were chiefly 
 aged men, women, and children; but their dread of 
 the English name accelerated their flight, and in a few 
 minutes, excepting the knight and his attendants, the 
 place was deserted by all. He paced through the vil- 
 lage to seek a shelter for the night, and despairing to 
 find one either in the inaccessible tower or the plun- 
 dered huts of the peasantry, he directed his course to 
 the left hand, where he spied a small, decent habita- 
 tion, apparently the abode of a man considerably above 
 the common rank. After much knocking, the pro- 
 prietor at length showed himself at the window, and 
 speaking in the English dialect, with great signs of 
 apprehension, demanded 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 unbolted and unbarred his doors, — 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. xxxi:: 
 
 " Pardon my hesitation, but we are liere 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 lodg- 
 ing, 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 our 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 arrang- 
 ing 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 
 
xl APPENDIX TO 
 
 Queen Margaret's bailiff, withdrew to the stable, and 
 each, beside his favourite horse, snored away the fatigues 
 of their journey. 
 
 Early on the following morning the travellers were 
 roused by a thundering 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. 
 
 He then hastened to the apartment of Lord Lacy, 
 whom he met dressed in a long furred gown and the 
 knightly cap called a mortier, irritated at the noise, 
 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 pur- 
 pose, and the power of accomplishing it ; so hold your- 
 self 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 tall, bony, and athletic, his spare and 
 muscular frame, as well as the hardness of his features, 
 marked the course of his life to have been fatiguing 
 and perilous. The effect of his appearance was aggra- 
 vated by his dress, which consisted of a jack, or 
 jacket, composed of thick buff leather, on which small 
 plates of iron of a lozenge form were stitched, in such a 
 manner as to overlap each other and form a coat of 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. xli 
 
 mail, which swayed with every motion of the wearer's 
 body. This defensive armour covered a doublet of 
 coarse gray 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 un- 
 common 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 some 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 Eng- 
 lish 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 mo- 
 ment on his own side. 
 
 Lord Lacy now advanced towards him. "You in- 
 trude 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 you have," an- 
 swered the moss-trooper, first pointing with his lance 
 towards the burned village, and then almost instantly 
 levelling it against Lord Lacy. The squire drew his 
 
xlii APPENDIX TO 
 
 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 mas- 
 ter. 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 drawest thy 
 brand," for the intruder laid his hand upon the hilt of 
 his 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! " re-echoed the 
 mountaineer. "I care not that rotten truncheon," 
 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 hostelry." 
 
 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 agi- 
 tation during this whole scene. 
 
 "His name, noble lord, is Adam Kerr of the Moat, 
 but he is commonly called by his companions the Black 
 Eider 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." 
 
GENERAL PREEACE. xliii 
 
 "I have heard of that chief," said the baron; "let 
 me know when he approaches. And do thou, Eodulph, " 
 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 re- 
 nowned person, Thomas of Hersildoune, called the 
 Ehymer, actually flourished. This personage, the 
 Merlin of Scotland, and to whom some of the ad- 
 ventures which the British bards assigned to Merlin 
 Caledonius, or the Wild, have been transferred by 
 tradition, was, as is well 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 dis- 
 tinguished 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 singu- 
 larly antique dress, who, to his great surprise, asked 
 the price of his horses, and began to chaffer with him 
 
xliv APPENDIX TO 
 
 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, without 
 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 the gold which he 
 received was in unicorns, bonnet-pieces, and other 
 ancient coins, which would have been invaluable to 
 c'ollectors, but were rather troublesome in modern cur- 
 rency. It was gold, however, and therefore Dick con- 
 trived 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 re- 
 semblance 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 neighbojaring 
 wind-mill of Kippilaw, Dick was somewhat startled to 
 observe that his conductor entered the hill-side by a 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. xlv 
 
 passage or cavern, of whicli 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 dimensions. At the upper 
 end, however, they at length arrived, where a sword 
 and horn lay on an antique table. 
 
 " He that shall sound that horn and draw that sword, " 
 said the stranger, who now intimated that he was the 
 famous Thomas of Hersildoune, "shall, 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 unsheathe 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 stun- 
 ning 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 war- 
 riors 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 latelj' 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, — 
 
xlvi APPENDIX TO 
 
 Woe to the coward, that ever he was bom, 
 
 Who did not draw the sword before he blew the horn ! 
 
 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 con- 
 cluding 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 High- 
 lands, sometimes in the deep coal-mines of Northum- 
 berland 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 cen- 
 tury. 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 un- 
 happy foundation for a prose story, and must have de- 
 generated into a mere fairy tale. Dr. John Leyden 
 has beautifully introduced the tradition in his "Scenes 
 of Infancy." 
 
 Mysterious Ehymer, 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, 
 Roll 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 ■? ' 
 
 1 Scenes of Infancy, Part I. 
 
aENERAL PREFACE. xlvii 
 
 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. 
 
 IX A FRAGMENT OF A LETTER FROM JOHN B- 
 
 ESQ. OF THAT ILK, TO WILLIAM G , F.R.S.E. 
 
 "Pill 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 further our negotiation at Paris; 
 and if — " 
 
 "Pardon the interrxiption. Doctor," quoth a thin, 
 emaciated figure, with somewhat 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 L'Abb(5," answered 
 the vicar, with some asperity, "that a Continental war 
 entered into for the defence of an ally who was unwil- 
 ling 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 part of Great 
 Britain," rejoined the Abb^ "a gratuitous exertion of 
 generosity ? Was there no fear of the wide-wasting 
 
xlviii APPENDIX TO 
 
 spirit of innovation which had gone abroad ? Did not 
 the laity tremble for their property, the clergy for 
 their religion, and every loyal heart for the Constitu- 
 tion? 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 smoul- 
 dering ruins." 
 
 "What, Doctor," said the baronet, "must 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 
 compelled the prudent Lesley to go down against the 
 Philistines inGilgal." 
 
 The vicar fixed a scrutinizing and not a very com- 
 placent eye upon this intruder. He was a young man, 
 of mean stature and rather a, reserved appearance. 
 Early and severe study had quenched in his features 
 the gaiety peculiar to his age, and impressed upon 
 them a premature cast of thoughtfulness. His eye 
 had, however, retained its fire, and his gesture its 
 animation. 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. 
 
GENERAL PREEACE. xlix 
 
 "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 ob- 
 servation which 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 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 com- 
 parison between the present times and those you men- 
 tion; I am too sensible of the advantages we enjoy 
 over our ancestors. Taction and ambition have intro- 
 duced 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, 
 
1 APPENDIX TO 
 
 among the dusty papers?" said Sir Henry, who 
 seemed to dread 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 exemplified 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 undis- 
 turbed 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 which I have 
 been endeavouring 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 pre- 
 pared him to take an interest in whatever related to 
 his ancestors. The ladies had dipped deeply into the 
 fashionable reading of the present day. Lady Eatcliff 
 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 ob- 
 serve that the famous incident of the Black Veil singu- 
 larly resembled the ancient apologue of the Mountain 
 in labour, so that they were unquestionably critics, as 
 well as admirers. Besides all this, they had valor- 
 ously mounted en croupe behind the ghostly horseman 
 of Prague, through all his seven translators, and fol- 
 lowed the footsteps of Moor through the forest of 
 Bohemia. Moreover, it was even hinted (but this was 
 
GENERAL PREFACE, li 
 
 a greater mystery than all the rest) that a certain per- 
 formance, 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 Eatcliff's dressing-room. 
 Thus predisposed for wonders and signs, Lady Eatcliff 
 and her nymphs drew their chairs round a large blaz- 
 ing 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 dur- 
 ing 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 Eatcliff have ever been. To this 
 wood-fire the vicar likewise drew near, and reclined 
 himself conveniently in his chair, seemingly disposed 
 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 of Jan Von Eulen. 
 
 " On the 6th November, 1645, I, 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. — llh No- 
 vember. A brisk gale ; daughter sea-sick ; myseU unable to 
 complete the calculation which I have begun, of the inherit- 
 ance left by Jane Lansaehe, of Carlisle, my late dear wife's 
 sister, the collection of which is the object of my voyage. — 
 Sth November. Wind still stormy and adverse ; a horrid dis- 
 aster 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 moneys which I 
 
lii APPENDIX TO 
 
 can recover from the inheritance of her aunt Lansache. — 
 9;/t November. Cakn. v. M. light breezes from N.N.W. I 
 talked with the captain about the inheritance o£ 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 ! " 
 
 "Here," said Maxwell, "the journal with whicli I 
 have opened the narration ends somewhat abruptly." 
 
 "I am glad of it," said Lady Eatcliff. 
 
 "But, Mr. Maxwell," said young Prank, Sir Hen- 
 ry'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 Prank Eat- 
 cliff. There is not a battle fought between the troops 
 of the Prince and of the Government, during the years 
 1745-46, of which he is not able to give an account. It 
 is true, I have taken particular 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 Eatcliff, — "No, my dear, I cannot tell you 
 the exact particulars of the engagement, but its con- 
 sequences 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 pur- 
 pose of the voyage, and of the engagement, her nar- 
 rative proceeds thus : — • 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. liii 
 
 " The noise of the cannon had hardly ceased, before the 
 sounds of a language to me but halt known, and the confusion 
 on board our vessel, informed 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 young man, 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 bluff, open-looking elderly man in a 
 naval tmiform. ' Yarely ! Yarely I pull away, my hearts,' said 
 the latter, and the boat bearing the unlucky 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. 
 
liv APPENDIX TO 
 
 No. II. 
 CONCLUSION OF MR. STRUTT'S ROMANCE OF 
 
 QUEENHOO HALL. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF "WAVERLET. 
 
 CHAPTEK IV. 
 
 A HUNTING PARTY. AN ADTENTURE. A DELIV- 
 ERANCE. 
 
 The 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 Eitzallen and his noble visitor 
 St. Clere. Peter Lanaret the falconer was in attend- 
 ance, with falcons for the knights, and tiercelets for 
 the ladies, if they should choose to vary their sport 
 from hunting to hawking. Pive stout yeomen keepers, 
 with their attendants, called Ragged Eobins, 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 grey- 
 hounds, each of which was fit to pluck down, singly, 
 the tallest 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, accord- 
 ing to their rank, with their boar-spears, long bows, 
 and cross-bows, were in seemly waiting. 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. Iv 
 
 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. They were the tallest 
 men of their hands that the neighbouring villages 
 could supply, with every 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 ac- 
 quaintances 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? Cer- 
 tes, the good Lord St. Clere and his fair lady sister 
 might think our housekeeping as 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 hand- 
 somely, — speak squibs and crackers, instead of that 
 dry, barren, musty gibing which thou hast used of late; 
 or, by the bones! 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." 
 
ivi APPENDIX TO 
 
 To this stern 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 hound, 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' apart- 
 ments, joined in the following roundelay, the deep 
 voices of the rangers and falconers making up a chorus 
 that caused the very battlements to ring again. 
 
 Waken, lords and ladies gay : 
 
 On the mountain dawns the day ; 
 
 All the jolly chase is here, 
 
 With hawlc and horse and hnnting-spear ; 
 
 Hounds are in their couples yelling, 
 
 Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, 
 
 Merrily, merrily, mingle they. 
 
 " Waken, lords and ladies gay." 
 
 Waken, lords and ladies gay : 
 The mist has left the mountain gray ; 
 Springlets in the dawn are streaming, 
 Diamonds on the brake are gleaming, 
 And foresters have busy been, 
 To track the buck in thicket green ; 
 Now we come to chant our lay : 
 " Waken, lords and ladies gay." 
 
 Waken, lords and ladies gay, 
 To the green-wood haste away ; 
 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." 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. Ivii 
 
 Louder, louder chant the lay : 
 " Waken, lords and ladies gay ; " 
 Tell them, youth and mirth and glee 
 Run a course as well as we. 
 Time, stern huntsman, who can baulk, 
 Staunch as hound, and fleet as hawk ? 
 Think of this, and rise with day. 
 Gentle lords and ladies gay. 
 
 By the time this lay was finished, Lord Boteler, 
 with his daughter and kinsman, Fitzallen of Marden, 
 and other noble guests had mounted their palfreys, and 
 the hunt set forward in due order. The huntsmen, 
 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 bandog, a large blood-hound tied in a leam 
 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, encour- 
 aging 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 
 
 1 Tailliers-hors ; in modern phrase, Tally-ho ! 
 
Iviii APPENDIX TO 
 
 a scythe at his girdle," 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 hollowed the 
 hounds upon a velvet-headed knobbler! By Saint 
 Hubert, if I break not his pate with my cross-bow, may 
 I never cast off hound more ! 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 attend- 
 ants, the stag was compelled to abandon it, and trust to 
 his speed for his safety. Three greyhounds were slipped 
 upon him, whom he threw out, after running 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 ofE 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 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 were 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 hounds 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 the spot, 
 and taking a cross-bow from an attendant, discharged a 
 
GENERAL PREEACE. lix 
 
 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 Fitzallen, 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, despatched 
 him with his short hunting-sword. 
 
 Albert Drawslot, who had just come up in terror for 
 the young 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 com- 
 manded the horns again to sound the recheat, in hopes 
 to call in the stragglers, and said to Fitzallen: "Me- 
 thinks 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 moon-calf, 
 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 overrunning, and I 
 think her noble brother has followed her, lest she 
 
Ix APPENDIX TO 
 
 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 round the deer, out of breath, and his 
 face covered with blood. He kept for some time utter- 
 ing inarticulate cries of "Harrow!" and "Wella- 
 way!", 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, "1 would gladly 
 know who has dared to array the poor knave thus; and 
 I trust he should dearly abye his outrecuidance, were he 
 the best, save one, in England." 
 
 Gregory, who had now found more breath, cried, 
 "Help, an ye be men! Save Lady Emma and her 
 brother, whom they are murdering in Brockenhurst 
 thicket." 
 
 This put all in motion. Lord Boteler hastily com- 
 manded a small party of his men to abide for the de- 
 fence 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 ground, mastered and almost 
 strangled by two dogs, which were instantly recognized 
 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 accom- 
 plished; 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? 
 
GENERAL FREE ACE. Ixi 
 
 "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, recognized his 
 kinsman, Gaston St. Clere. This discovery he com- 
 municated in a whisper to Lord Boteler, who com- 
 manded 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 bounty would heap 
 on him." 
 
 "Truly, friend Gregory, " answered the young war- 
 rior, "thou shalt not be forgotten; for thou didst run 
 speedily and roar manfully for aid, without which, I 
 think verily, we had not received it. But the brave 
 forester who came to my rescue when these three ruf- 
 fians 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 re- 
 tired 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 
 
Ixii APPENDIX TO 
 
 terror had, for the time, somewhat disturbed her rea- 
 son, forebore 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 
 towards them a body of armed men. The followers of 
 the baron were numerous, but they were arrayed for 
 the chase, not for battle; and it was with great pleas- 
 ure 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 Marden. 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 re- 
 tainers, 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. 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. Ixiii 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 INVESTIGATION OF THE ADVENTURE OF THE HUNTING. 
 
 A DISCOVERY. GKEGORX'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 con- 
 trary, 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 
 hearing 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 rushed into the 
 thicket, but was instantly assailed by two ruffians, 
 while other two made towards my sister and G-regory. 
 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 
 
Ixiv APPENDIX TO 
 
 miscreant at Ms feet and came to my assistance. I 
 was already slightly wounded, and nearly over-laid 
 with odds. The combat lasted some time, for the 
 caitiffs were both well armed, strong, and desperate ; 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." 
 
 "Pear not," said Lord Boteler; "he shall be found 
 if this or the four adjacent counties hold him. And 
 now Lord Pitzosborne will be pleased to doff the ar- 
 mour 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 Ma- 
 tilda 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 misfor- 
 tunes of 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 whose providential interference it had 
 been so often preserved. 
 
 Matilda coloured deeply at something in this speech, 
 and her cousin inveighed loudly against Emma's re- 
 solution. "Ah, my dear Lady Eleanor," replied she, 
 " I have to-day witnessed what I cannot but judge a 
 supernatural 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 Danbury, 
 the same who appeared before me at different times 
 and in different forms during that eventful journey, 
 — that youth, whose features are imprinted on my 
 memory, is the very individual forester who this day 
 
GENEKAL PREFACE. Ixv 
 
 rescued us in the forest. I cannot be mistaken; and 
 connecting these marvellous appearances with the 
 spectre which I saw while at G-ay 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 im- 
 plied a fear that her mind was wandering, answered 
 her in soothing terms, and finally prevailed upon her 
 to accompany them to the hanqueting-hall. Here the 
 first person they encountered was the Baron Fitzoshorne 
 of Diggswell, now divested of his armour; at the sight 
 of whom the Lady Emma changed colour, and exclaim- 
 ing, "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 Eitzosborne, "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 Eitzosborne of the words he had used. 
 
 "Trust me, gentle lords," said the Baron of Diggs- 
 well, "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 Eitz- 
 osborne before, in the most dangerous crisis of her 
 life. 
 
 "I dread," said she, "her disordered mind con- 
 nects all that her eye beholds with the terrible pas- 
 sages that she has witnessed." 
 
Ixvi APPENDIX TO 
 
 "Nay," said Fitzosborne; "if noble St. Clere can 
 pardon the unauthorized interest which, with the pur- 
 est and most honourable intentions, I have taken in his 
 sister's fate, it is easy for me to explain this mysterious 
 impression." 
 
 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 ex- 
 pelled from Gay Bowers, was in the height of her grief 
 and indignation, and made loud and public proclama- 
 tion 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 in- 
 terested in her fate. This interest was deeply en- 
 hanced when, by a bribe to Old Gaunt the Eeve, 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 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, 
 he — In short, Gaunt wished they were safely sepa- 
 rated. "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 warn- 
 ing 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 Gaunt, although covetous and communica- 
 tive, too faithful a servant to his wicked master to 
 take any active steps against his commands, Fitzos- 
 borne applied himself to old Ursely, whom he found 
 more tractable. Through her he learned the dreadful 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. Ixvii 
 
 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 journej', 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. Wlien she was placed 
 in safety at the lodge, it was Pitzosborne'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 countJ^ They did not 
 return until the day before the May-games; and the 
 other events followed too rapidly to permit Ktzosborne 
 to lay any plan for introducing them to Lady Emma 
 Darcy. On the day of the chase he resolved to pre- 
 serve 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 com- 
 rade Eitzallen of Harden. This last motive, it may 
 easily be believed, he did not declare to the company. 
 After the skirmish with the ruflSans, he waited till the 
 baron and the hunters arrived, and then, still doubting 
 the further designs of Gaston, hastened to his castle to 
 arm the band which had escorted them to Queenhoo 
 Hall. 
 
 Fitzosborne's story being finished, he received the 
 thanks of all the company, 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 
 
Ixviii APPENDIX TO 
 
 raillery of Lad}' Eleanor made her regret that Heaven 
 had only employed natural 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 hall extended itself 
 to the buttery, where Gregory the jester narrated such 
 feats of arms done by himself in the fray of the morn- 
 ing as might have shamed Bevis and Guj' of Warwick. 
 He was, according to his narrative, singled out for de- 
 struction by the gigantic baron himself, while he aban- 
 doned to meaner hands the destruction of St. Clere and 
 Fitzosborne. 
 
 "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 closing 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 good greyhounds, Help and Hold- 
 fast ! 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 remem- 
 bered 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 war- 
 rant thee that when they brought him to ground, thou 
 fledst 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 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. Ixix 
 
 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 G-aston St. Clere 
 was confined. A man-at-arms, who kept sentinel on 
 the strong studded door of the apartment, said he be- 
 lieved he slept; for that after raging, stamping, and 
 uttering the most horrid 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, coiild 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 disappointed 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 ex- 
 cellent sermon upon the text, "Radix malorum est 
 cupiditas," which we have here transcribed. 
 
 [Here the manuscript from which we have painfully 
 transcribed, and frequently, as it were, translated this 
 
Ixx APPENDIX TO 
 
 tale, for the reader's edification, is so indistinct and 
 defaced that, excepting certain "howheits, " " nath- 
 lesses," "lo ye's! " etc. we can pick out little that is 
 intelligihle, saving that avarice is defined "a likour- 
 ishness of heart after earthly things." A little farther 
 there seems to have heen a gay account of Margery's 
 wedding with Ralph the Tasker, the running at the 
 quintain, and other rural games practised on the occa- 
 sion. 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 
 lie would give it the same blessing which he got from 
 the witch of Endor when she bit him by the heel. 
 Hereof speaks the worthy Dr. Eadigundus Potator. 
 Why should not Mass be said for all the roasted shoe 
 souls served up in the king's dish on Saturday? For 
 true it is that Saint Peter asked father Adam, as they 
 journeyed to Camelot, an high, great, and doubtful 
 question: 'Adam, Adam, why eated'st thou the apple 
 without paring? ' " ^ 
 
 1 This tirade of gibberish is literally taken or selected from a 
 mock discourse 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 com- 
 pliance with Mr. Strutt's plan of rendering his tale an illustration 
 of ancient manners. A similar burlesque sermon is pronounced bv 
 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 capti- 
 vate the imbecility of his brother knight, who is made to exclaim ; 
 " In sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night when thou 
 spokest of Pigrogremitus, and of the vapours passing the equiuoc- 
 
GENERAL PllEEACE. Ixxi 
 
 With mucli goodly gibberish to the same effect, — 
 which display of G-regory's ready wit not only threw 
 the whole company into convulsions of laughter, but 
 made siich an impression on Eose, the Potter's daugh- 
 ter, 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 points, the scramble which 
 ensued for them, and the casting of the stocking, is 
 also omitted, from its obscuritJ^ 
 
 The following song, which has been since borrowed 
 by the worshipful avithor of the famous "History of 
 Fryar Bacon," has been with difficulty deciphered. It 
 seems to have been sung on occasion of carrying home 
 the bride. 
 
 Beidal Song. 
 
 To the tune of'I have been a Fiddler," etc. 
 
 And did you not hear of a mirth befell 
 
 The morrow after a wedding-day, 
 And carrying a hride at home to dwell ? 
 
 And away to Tewin, away, away ! 
 
 The quintain was set, and the garlands were made, — 
 
 'Tis pity old customs should ever decay ; 
 And woe he to him that was horsed on a jade, 
 
 For he carried no credit away, away. 
 
 "We met a consort of fiddle-de-dees ; 
 
 We set them a cockhorse, and made them play 
 The winning of BuUen, and Upsey-fires, 
 
 And away to Tewin, away, away ! 
 
 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 ! 
 
 tials of Quenbus ; 't was very good, i' faith ! " It is entertaining 
 to find commentators seeking to discover some meaning in the pro- 
 fessional jargon of such a passage as this. 
 
Ixxii APPENDIX TO 
 
 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 tliere '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 '11 say no more, but give o'er (give o'er). 
 
 But what our fair readers will chiefly regret is the 
 loss of three declarations of love : the first by St. Clere 
 to Matilda, which, with the lady^s answer, occupies 
 fifteen closely written pages of manuscript. That of 
 Ktzoshorne to Emma is not much shorter; but the 
 amours of Fitzallen and Eleanor, being of a less roman- 
 tic 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., 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 beds which received 
 the happy couples, was no niggard of his holy water, 
 bestowing 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 manuscript 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 manuscripts. And so (being un- 
 able to lay aside the style to which our pen is habitu- 
 ated), gentle reader, we bid thee heartily farewell. 1 
 
ABB OTS FORD 
 
lfi> 
 
 M-- 
 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. Ixxiii 
 
 No. III. 
 ANECDOTE OF SCHOOL DAYS, 
 
 UPOJT WHICH MK. THOMAS SCOTT PROPOSED TO FOUKD A TALE 
 OP 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 tlie great disgrace of the po- 
 lice, 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 par- 
 ticular 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 according to the resi- 
 dence of their friends. So far as I recollect, however, 
 it was unmingled 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 some- 
 times happened; boys are said to have been killed at 
 these "bickers," as they were called, and serious acci- 
 dents 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 
 
Ixxiv APPENDIX TO 
 
 tliat family, with others in the square, were arranged 
 into a sort of company, to which a lady of distinction 
 presented a handsome set of colours. Now this com- 
 pany, or regiment, as a matter of course, was engaged 
 in weekly warfare with the boys inhabiting the Cross- 
 causeway, Bristo Street, the Potter Eow, — in short, 
 the neighbouring 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 victo- 
 rious, when, if ours were successful, we drove the 
 enemy to their quarters, and were usually chased back 
 by the reinforcement of bigger lads who came to their 
 assistance. If, on the contrary, 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 ene- 
 mies, we were yet well acquainted with their appear- 
 ance, and had nicknames 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 Ijvery breeches, which was the principal part 
 of his clothing; 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. 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. Ixxv 
 
 It fell that once upon a time, when the combat was 
 at the thickest, this plebeian champion headed a sud- 
 den charge so rapid and furious that all iled 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 intrusted with a couteau de chasse, or hanger, in- 
 spired with a zeal for the honoiir of the corps worthy of 
 Major Sturgeon himself, struck poor Grreen-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 the remorse and 
 terror of the actor were beyond all bounds, and his 
 apprehensions 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 indicate the person from whom he had received 
 the wound, though he must have been perfectly well 
 known to him. When he recovered, and was dis- 
 missed, the Author and his brothers opened a communi- 
 cation with him, through the medium of a popular 
 gingerbread baker, of whom both parties were custom- 
 ers, 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-Brecks 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," — 
 
Ixxvi APPENDIX TO 
 
 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 amuse- 
 ment ; but we conducted them ever after under mutual 
 assurances of the highest consideration for 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, 1 cannot help 
 being of opinion that if fortune had placed him in cir- 
 cumstances calling for gallantrjr or generosity, the 
 man would have fulfilled the promises of the boy. 
 Long afterwards, when the story was told to my fa- 
 ther, 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 pre- 
 dominant 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 accompaniments of 
 the story are matters to me of solemn and sad recollec- 
 tion. 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, dis- 
 
GENERAL PREFACE. Ixxvii 
 
 persed in different patlis 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 infirmitj'', 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 those who have been loved and lost. 
 
WAVERLEY; 
 
 'TIS SIXTY YEARS SINCE. 
 
 ' Under which king, Bezonian ? speak, or die ! " 
 
 Henry IV., Part II. 
 
EDITOR'S INTEODUCTION TO WAVEELEY. 
 
 ' ' What is the value of a reputation that probably will 
 not last above one or two generations?" Sir Walter 
 Scott once asked Ballantyne. Two generations, ac- 
 cording to the usual reckoning, have passed; "'Tis 
 Sixty Years since" the "wondrous Potentate" of 
 Wordsworth's sonnet died, yet the reputation on which 
 he set so little store survives. A constant tide of new 
 editions of his novels flows from the press ; his plots 
 give materials for operas and plays ; he has been criti- 
 cised, praised, condemned: but his romances endure 
 amid the changes of taste, remaining the delight of 
 mankind, while new schools and little masters of fiction 
 come and go. 
 
 Scott himself believed that even great works usually 
 suffer periods of temporary occultation. His own, no 
 doubt, have not always been in their primitive vogue. 
 Even at first, English readers complained of the diffi- 
 culty caused by his Scotch, and now many make his 
 " dialect " an excuse for not reading books which their 
 taste, debauched by third-rate fiction, is incapable of 
 enjoying. But Scott has never disappeared in one of 
 those irregular changes of public opinion remarked on 
 by his friend Lady Louisa Stuart. In 1821 she in- 
 formed him that she had tried the experiment of read- 
 ing Mackenzie's " Man of Feeling " aloud. "Nobody 
 cried, and at some of the touches I used to think so ex- 
 quisite, they laughed." ^ His correspondent requested 
 
 ' Abbotsfoi-d JIanuscripts. 
 / 
 
Ixxxii EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 Scott to write something on such variations of taste, 
 which actually seem to be in the air and epidemic, for 
 they affect, as she remarked, young people who have 
 not heard the criticisms of their elders.^ Thus Eous- 
 seau's "Nouvelle H61oise," once so fascinating to 
 girls, and reputed so dangerous, had become tedious 
 to the young, Lady Louisa says, even in 1821. But 
 to the young, if they have any fancy and intelligence, 
 Scott is not tedious even now ; and probably his most 
 devoted readers are boys, girls, and men of matured 
 appreciation and considerable knowledge of literature. 
 The unformed and the cultivated tastes are still at one 
 about Scott. He holds us yet with his unpremeditated 
 art, his natural qualities of friendliness, of humour, of 
 sympathy. Even the carelessness with which his ear- 
 liest and his kindest critics — Ellis, Erskine, and 
 Lady Louisa Stuart — reproached him has not suc- 
 ceeded in killing his work and diminishing his renown. 
 It is style, as critics remind us, it is perfection of 
 form, no doubt, that secure the permanence of litera- 
 ture ; but Scott did not overstate his own defects when 
 he wrote in his Journal (April 22, 1826): "A solecism 
 in point of composition, like a Scotch word, is indif- 
 ferent to me. I never learned grammar. ... I be- 
 lieve the bailiff in ' The Goodnatured Man ' is not 
 far wrong when he says : ' One man has one way of ex- 
 pressing himself, and another another; and that is all 
 the difference between them. ' ' ' The difference between 
 Scott and Thackeray or Elaubert among good writers, 
 and a crowd of self-conscious and mannered " stylists " 
 among writers not so very good, is essential. About 
 Shakspeare it was said that he "never blotted a line." 
 The observation is almost literally true about Sir Wal- 
 ter. The pages of his manuscript novels show scarcely 
 
 1 See Scott's reply, with the anecdote about Mrs. Aphra Behn's 
 novels, Lockhart, vi. 406 (edition of 1839). 
 
WAVERLEY. Ixxxiii 
 
 a retouch or an erasure, whether in the "Waverley" 
 fragment of 1805 or the unpublished " Siege of Malta " 
 of 1832.^ The handwriting becomes closer and smaller; 
 from thirty-eight lines to the page in "Waverley," he 
 advances to between fifty and sixty in "Ivanhoe." 
 The few alterations are usually additions. Por exam- 
 ple, a fresh pedantry of the Baron of Bradwardine's is 
 occasionally set down on the opposite page. Nothing 
 can be less like the method of Flaubert or the method 
 of Mr. Eusldn, who tells us that "a sentence of 'Mod- 
 ern Painters ' was often written four or five times over 
 in my own hand, and tried in every word for perhaps 
 an hour, — perhaps a forenoon, — before it was passed 
 for the printer." Each writer has his method; Scott 
 was no stippler or niggler, but, as we shall see later, 
 he often altered much in his proof-sheets. ^ As long 
 as he was understood, he was almost reckless of well- 
 constructed sentences, of the one best word for his 
 meaning, of rounded periods. This indifference is not 
 to be praised, but it is only a proof of his greatness 
 that his style, never distinguished, and often lax, has 
 not impaired the vitality of his prose. The heart 
 which beats in his works, the knowledge of human na- 
 ture, the dramatic vigour of his character, the nobility 
 
 1 A history of Scott's Manuscripts, with good fac-similes, will 
 be found iu the Catalogue of the Scott Exhibition, Edinburgh, 
 1872. 
 
 ■^ While speaking of correction, it may be noted that Scott, in 
 his " Advertisement " prefixed to the issue of 1829, speaks of 
 changes made in that collected edition. In " Waverley " these 
 emendations are very rare, and are unimportant. A few callidce 
 jnncturm are added, a very few lines are deleted. The postscript of 
 the first edition did not contain the anecdote about the hiding- 
 place of the manuscript among the fishing tackle. The first line 
 of Flora Mac-Ivor's battle-song (chapter xxii.) originally ran, 
 "Mist darkens the mountain, night darkens the vale," in place of 
 "There is mist on the mountain and mist on the v.ile. " For the 
 rest, as Scott says, "where the tree falls it must lie." 
 
Ixxxiv EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 of his whole being win the day against the looseness 
 of his manner, the negligence of his composition, 
 against the haste of fatigue which set him, as Lady- 
 Louisa Stuart often told him, on "huddling up a con- 
 clusion anyhow, and so kicking the book out of his 
 way." In this matter of denouements he certainly 
 was no more careful than Shakspeare or Moliere. 
 
 The permanence of Sir Walter's romances is proved, 
 as we said, by their survival among all the changes of 
 fashion in the art of fiction. When he took up his pen 
 to begin "Waverlej," fiction had not absorbed, as it 
 does to-day, almost all the best imaginative energy of 
 English or foreign writers. Now we hear of "art" 
 on every side, and every novelist must give the world 
 his opinion about schools and methods. Scott, on the 
 other hand, lived in the greatest poetical age since 
 that of Elizabeth. Poetry or the drama (in which, to 
 be sure, few succeeded) occupied Wordsworth, Byron, 
 Coleridge, Shelley, Crabbe, Campbell, and Keats. 
 Then, as Joanna Baillie hyperbolically declared, "The 
 Scotch novels put poetry out of fashion." ^ Till they 
 appeared, novels seem to have been left to readers like 
 the plaintive lady's-maid whom Scott met at Dalkeith, 
 when he beheld "the fair one descend from the car- 
 riage with three half -bound volumes of a novel in her 
 hand." Mr. Morritt, writing to Scott in March, 
 1815, hopes he will " restore pure narrative to the dig- 
 nity from which it gradually slipped before it dwin- 
 dled into a manufactory for the circulating library." 
 " Waverley," he asserted, "would prevail over people 
 otherwise averse to blue-backed volumes." Thus it 
 was an unconsidered art which Scott took up and re- 
 vived. Half a century had passed since Eielding gave 
 us in "Tom Jones " his own and very different picture 
 
 1 Abbotsford Manuscripts. Hogg averred that nobody either 
 read or wrote poetry after Sir Walter took to prose. 
 
WAVERLEY. kxxv 
 
 of life in the '"forty -five," — of life witli all the 
 romance of the "Kace to Derby " cut down to a sen- 
 tence or two. Since the age of the great English 
 novelists, Eichardson and Fielding and Miss Burney, 
 the art of fiction had been spasmodically alive in the 
 hands of Mrs. Eadcliffe, had been sentimental with 
 Henry Mackenzie, and now was all but moribund, save 
 for the humorous Irish sketches of Miss Edgeworth. 
 As Scott always insisted, it was mainly " the extended 
 and well-merited fame of Miss Edgeworth " which in- 
 duced him to try his hand on a novel containing pic- 
 tures of Scottish life and character. Kothing was 
 more remarkable in his own novels than the blending 
 of close and humorous observation of common life with 
 pleasure in adventurous narratives about "Avhat is not 
 so, and was not so, and Heaven forbid that it ever 
 should be so," as the girl says in the nursery tale. 
 Through his whole life he remained the dreamer of 
 dreams and teller of wild legends, who had held the 
 lads of the High School entranced round Luckie 
 Brown's fireside, and had fleeted the summer days in 
 interchange of romances with a schoolboy friend, Mr. 
 Irving, among the hills that girdle Edinburgh. He 
 ever had a passion for "knights and ladies and dragons 
 and giants," and "God only knows, " he says, "how 
 delighted I was to find myself in such society." But 
 with all this delight, his imagination had other plea- 
 sures than the fantastic: the humours and passions of 
 ordinary existence were as clearly visible to him as the 
 battles, the castles, and the giants. True, he was 
 more fastidious in his choice of novels of real life than 
 in his romantic reading. "The whole Jemmy and 
 Jessamy tribe I abhorred," he said; "and it required 
 the art of Burney or the feeling of Mackenzie to 
 fix my attention upon a domestic tale." But when 
 the domestic tale was good and true, no man appre- 
 
Ixxxvi EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 ciated it more than he. None has more vigorously 
 applauded Miss Austen than Scott, and it was thus 
 that as the "Author of 'Waverley'" he addressed 
 Miss Edgeworth, through James Ballantyne: "If I 
 could hut hit Miss Edgeworth's wonderful power of 
 vivifying all her persons, and making, them live as 
 beings in your mind, I should not be afraid." 
 "Often," Ballantyne goes on, "has the Author of 
 'Waverley' used such language to me; and I knew 
 that I gratified him most when I could say, 'Positively, 
 this is equal to Miss Edgeworth.' " 
 
 Thus Scott's own taste was catholic : and in this he 
 was particularly unlike the modern novelists, who pro- 
 claim, from both sides of the Atlantic, that o'nly in 
 their own methods, and in sharing their own ex- 
 clusive tastes, is literary salvation. The prince of 
 Romance was no one-sided romanticiste ; his ear was 
 open to all fiction good in its kind. His generosity 
 made him think Miss Edgeworth's persons more 
 alive than his own. To his own romances he pre- 
 ferred Mrs. Shelley's " Erankenstein. " ^ As a critic, 
 of course, he was mistaken ; but his was the generous 
 error of the heart, and it is the heart in Walter Scott, 
 even more than the brain, that lends its own vitality to 
 his creations. Equipped as he was with a taste truly ca- 
 
 1 Scott reviewed " Prankenstein " in 1818. Mr. Shelley had 
 sent it with a brief note, in -which he said that it was the work of 
 a friend, and that he had only seen it through the press. Sir Wal- 
 ter passed the book on to Mr. Morritt, who, in reply, gave Scott a 
 brief and not very accurate history of Shelley. Sir Walter then 
 wrote a most favourable review of "Frankenstein" in "Black- 
 wood's Magazine," observing that it was attributed to Mr. Percy 
 Bysshe Shelley, a son-in-law of Mr. Godwin. Mrs. Shelley pres- 
 ently wrote thanking him for the review, and assuring him that 
 it was her own work. Scott had apparently taken Shelley's dis- 
 claimer as an innocent evasion: it was an age of literary super- 
 cileries. — Ahbotsford Manuscripts. 
 
WAVERLEY. IxxxviL 
 
 tholic, capable in old age of admiring "Pelham, " he had 
 the power to do what he calls "the big bow-wow strain ; " 
 yet he was not, as in his modesty he supposed, denied 
 "the. exquisite touch which renders ordinary common- 
 place things and characters interesting, from the truth 
 of the description and the sentiment." ^ 
 
 The letter of Eose Bradwardine to Waverley is alone 
 enough to disprove Scott's disparagement of himself, 
 his belief that he had been denied exquisiteness of 
 touch. Nothing human is more delicate, nothing 
 should be more delicately handled, than the first 
 love of a girl. What the "analytical" modern 
 novelist would pass over and dissect and place be- 
 neath his microscope till a student of any manliness 
 blushes with shame and annoyance, Scott suffers Rose 
 Bradwardine to reveal with a sensitive shyness. But 
 Scott, of course, had even less in common with the 
 peeper and botanizer on maidens' hearts than with the 
 wildest romanticist. He considered that "a want of 
 story is always fatal to a book the first reading, and it 
 is well if it gets a chance of a second." From him 
 " Pride and Prejudice " got a chance of three readings 
 at least. This generous universality of taste, in addi- 
 tion to all his other qualities of humour and poetry, 
 enabled Scott to raise the novel from its decadence, 
 and to make the dry bones of history live again 
 in his tales. With Charles Edward at Holyrood, as 
 Mr. Senior wrote in the "Quarterly Eeview," "we 
 are in the lofty region of romance. In any other 
 hands than those of Sir Walter Scott, the language 
 and conduct of those great people would have been as 
 dignified as their situations. We should have heard 
 nothing of the hero in his new costume ' majoring 
 afore the muckle pier-glass, ' of his arrest by the host 
 of the Candlestick, of his examination by the well- 
 1 Journal, March 14, 1826. 
 
Ixxxviii EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 powdered Major Melville, or of his fears of being in- 
 formed against by Mrs. Kosebag." In short, "while 
 the leading persons and events are as remote from or-, 
 dinary life as the inventions of Scud^ry, the picture 
 of human nature is as faithful as could have been given 
 by Fielding or Le Sage." Though this criticism has 
 not the advantage of being new, it is true ; and when 
 we have added that Scott's novels are the novels of the 
 poet who, next to Shakspeare, knew mankind most 
 widely and well, we have the secret of his triumph. 
 
 For the first time in literature, it was a poet who 
 held the pen of the romancer in prose. Fielding, 
 Richardson, De Foe, Miss Burney, were none of them 
 made by the gods poetical. Scott himself, with his 
 habitual generosity, would have hailed his own pre- 
 decessor in Mrs. Radcliffe. "The praise may be 
 claimed for Mrs. Eadcliffe of having been the first to 
 introduce into her prose fictions a beautiful and fanci- 
 ful tone of natural description and impressive nar- 
 rative, which had hitherto been exclusively applied 
 to poetry. . . . Mrs. Eadcliffe has a title to be con- 
 sidered the first poetess of romantic fiction." When 
 " Gruy Mannering " appeared, Wordsworth sneered at 
 it as a work of the Eadcliffe school. The slight dif- 
 ference produced by the introduction of humour could 
 scarcely be visible to Wordsworth. But Scott would 
 not have been hurt by his' judgment. He had the 
 literary courage to recognize merit even when obscured 
 by extravagance, and to applaud that in which people of 
 culture could find neither excellence nor charrti. Like 
 Thackeray, he had been thrilled by Vivaldi in the In- 
 quisition, and he was not the man to hide his grati- 
 tude because his author was now out of fashion. 
 
 Thus we see that Scott, when he began "Waverley" 
 in 1806, brought to his labour no hard-and-fast theory 
 of the art of fiction, but a kindly readiness to be pleased. 
 
WAVERLEY. Ixxxix 
 
 and to find good in everything. He brought his wide 
 knowledge of contemporary Scottish life "from the 
 peer to the ploughman; " he brought his well-digested 
 wealth of antiquarian lore, and the poetic skill which 
 had just been busied with the " Lay of the Last Min- 
 strel," and was still to be occupied, ere he finished his 
 interrupted novel, with "Marmion, " "The Lady of 
 the Lake," "Rokeby," and "The Lord of the Isles." 
 The comparative failure of the last-named no doubt 
 strengthened his determination to try prose romance. 
 He had never cared much for his own poems, he says, 
 Byron had outdone him in popularity, and the Muse 
 — "the Good Demon" who once deserted Herrick — 
 came now less eagerly to his call. 
 
 It is curiously difficult to disentangle the statements 
 about the composition of "Waverley." Our first au- 
 thority, of course, is Scott's own account, given in the 
 General Preface to the Edition of 1829. Lockhart, 
 however, remarks on the haste with which Sir Walter 
 wrote the Introductions to the magnum opus ; and the 
 lapse of fifteen years, the effects of disease, and his 
 habitual carelessness about his own works and mode of 
 working may certainly to some extent have clouded 
 his memory. "About the year 1806," as he says, he 
 ' ' threw together about one third part of the first 
 volume of 'Waverley.'" It was advertised to be 
 published, he goes on, by Ballantyne, with the second 
 title, "'Tis Fifty Years since." This, obviously, 
 would have made 1755 the date of the events, just 
 as the title " 'T is Sixty Years since " in 1814 brought 
 the date of the events to 1764. By inspecting the 
 water-mark of the paper Lockhart discovered that 1805 
 was the period in which the first few chapters were 
 composed; the rest of the paper was marked 1813. 
 Scott next observes that the unfavourable opinion of 
 a critical friend on the first seven chapters induced 
 
xc EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 liim to lay the manuscript aside. Who was this 
 friend? Lockhart thinks it was Erskine. It is cer- 
 tain, from a letter of Ballantyne's at Abhotsford, — a 
 letter printed by Lockhart, September 15, 1810, — that 
 Ballantyne in 1810 saw at least the earlier por- 
 tions of "Waverley, " and it is clear enough that he 
 had seen none of it before. If any friend did read 
 it in 1806, it cannot have been Ballantyne, and may 
 have been Erskine. But none of the paper bears a 
 water-mark between 1805 and 1813, so Scott must 
 merely have taken it up, in 1810, as it had been for 
 five years. Now Scott says that the success of "The 
 Lady of the Lake," with its Highland pictures, in- 
 duced him "to attempt something of the same sort in 
 prose." This, as Lockhart notes, cannot refer to 
 1805, as ' ' The Lady of the Lake ' ' did not appear 
 till 1810. But the good fortune of the "Lady " may 
 very well have induced him in 1810 to reconsider his 
 Highland prose romance. In 1808, as appears from 
 an undated letter to Surtees of Mainsforth (Abbots- 
 ford Manuscripts), he was contemplating a poem on 
 "that wandering knight so fair," Charles Edward, 
 and on the adventures of his flight, on Lochiel, Flora 
 Macdonald, the Kennedys, and the rest. Earlier still, 
 on June 9, 1806, Scott wrote to Lady Abercorn that 
 he had "a great work in contemplation, a Highland 
 romance of love, magic, and war." "The Lady of 
 the Lake " took the place of that poem in his "cen- 
 tury of inventions," and, stimulated by the popularity 
 of his Highland romance in verse, he disinterred the 
 first seven chapters of "Waverley" from their five 
 years of repose. Very probably, as he himself hints, 
 the exercise of fitting a conclusion to Strutt's "Queen- 
 Hoo-Hall " may have helped to bring his fancy back 
 to his own half-forgotten story- of "Waverley." In 
 1811 Scott went to Abbotsford, and there, as he tells 
 
WAVERLEY. xci 
 
 us, he lost sight of his " Waverley " fragment. ^ 
 Often looked for, it was never iound, till the accident 
 of a search for fishing-tackle led him to discover it in 
 the drawer of an old bureau in a lumber-garret. This 
 cabinet afterwards came into the possession of Mr. 
 William Laidlaw, Scott's friend and amanuensis, and 
 it is still, the Editor understands, in the hands of 
 Miss Laidlaw. The fishing-tackle. Miss Laidlaw tells 
 the Editor (mainly red hackles, tied on hair, not gut), 
 still occupies the drawer, except a few flies which were 
 given, as relics, to the late Mr. Thomas Tod Stoddart. 
 In 1813, then, volume i. of " Waverley " was finished. 
 Then Scott undertook some articles for Constable, and 
 laid the novel aside. The printing, at last, must have 
 been very speedy. Dining in Edinburgh, in June, 
 1814, Lockhart saw "the hand of Walter Scott" 
 busy at its task. "Page after page is finished, and 
 thrown on the heap of manuscripts, and still it goes 
 on unwearied." ^ The book was published on July 7, 
 the press hardly keeping up with the activity of the 
 author. Scott had written "two volumes in three 
 summer weeks," and the printers had not shown less 
 activity, while binders and stitchers must have worked 
 extra tides. 
 
 "Waverley" was published without the Author's 
 name. Scott's reasons for being anonymous have been 
 stated by himself. "It was his humour," — that is 
 the best of the reasons, and the secret gave him a great 
 deal of amusement. The Ballantynes, of course, knew 
 it from the first; so did Mr. Morritt, Lady Louisa 
 Stuart, and Lord and Lady Montague, and others were 
 gradually admitted. In an undated letter, probably 
 
 1 Mr. E. P. Gillies says that in 1811 "'Waverley,' in three 
 volumes, had been announced by John Ballantyne, and a sheet or 
 two set in types." (Recollections of Sir Walter Scott, p. 204.) 
 
 2 Lockhart, iv. 172. 
 
xcii EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 of November, 1816, Scott says to the Marchioness of 
 Abercorn, a most intimate friend: "I cannot even con- 
 jecture whom you mean by Mr. Mackenzie as author of 
 'The Antiquary.' I should think my excellent old 
 friend Mr. Harry Mackenzie [author of the 'Man of 
 Feeling,' etc.] was too much advanced in years and 
 plunged in business to amuse himself by writing nov- 
 els; and besides, the style in no degree resembles his." 
 (Lady Abercorn meant "Young Harry Mackenzie," 
 not the patriarch.) "I am told one of the English 
 reviews gives these works by name and upon alleged 
 authority to George Forbes, Sir William's brother; 
 so they take them off my hands, I don't care who they 
 turn to, for I am really tired of an imputation which I 
 am under the necessity of confuting at every corner. 
 Tom will soon be home from Canada, as the death of 
 my elder brother has left him a little money. He may 
 answer for himself, but I hardly suspect him, unless 
 much changed, to be possessed of the perseverance 
 necessary to write nine volumes." Scott elsewhere 
 rather encouraged the notion that his brother Thomas 
 was the author, and tried to make him exert himself 
 and enter the field as a rival. Gossip also assigned 
 "the Scotch novels" to Jeffrey, to Mrs. Thomas 
 Scott, aided by her husband and Sir Walter, to a Dr. 
 Greenfield, a clergyman, and to many others. Sir 
 Walter humorously suggested George Cranstoun as 
 the real offender. After the secret was publicly con- 
 fessed. Lady Louisa Stuart reminded Scott of all the 
 amusement it had given them. " Old Mortality " 
 had been pronounced "too good" for Scott, and free 
 from his " wearisome descriptions of scenery. " Clever 
 people had detected several separate hands in " Old 
 Mortality," as in the Iliad. All this was diverting. 
 Moreover, Scott was in some degree protected from the 
 bores who pester a successful author. He could deny 
 
WAVERLEY, xciii 
 
 the facts very stoutly, though always, as he insists, 
 with the reservation implied in alleging that, if he 
 had been the author, he would still have declined to 
 confess. In the notes to later novels we shall see 
 some of his "great denials." 
 
 The reception of "Waverley " was enthusiastic. 
 Large editions were sold in Edinburgh, and when Scott 
 returned from his cruise in the northern islands he 
 found society ringing with his unacknowledged tri- 
 umph. Byron, especially, proclaimed his pleasure in 
 " Waverley." It may be curious to recall some of the 
 published reviews of the moment. Probably no author 
 ever lived so indifferent to published criticism as Scott. 
 Miss Edgeworth, in one of her letters, reminds him 
 how they had both agreed that writers who cared for 
 the dignity and serenity of their characters should 
 abstain from "that authors' bane-stuff." "As to the 
 lierd of critics," Scott wrote to Miss Seward, after 
 publishing "The Lay," "many of those gentlemen 
 appear to me to be a set of tinkers, who, unable to 
 make pots and pans, set up for menders of them." 
 It is probable, therefore, that he was quite unconcerned 
 about the few remarks which Mr. Gifford, in the 
 "Quarterly Review " (vol. xl., 1814), interspersed 
 among a multitude of extracts, in a notice of "Wa- 
 verley " manufactured with scissors and paste. The 
 "Quarterly" recognized "a Scotch Castle Eackrent," 
 but in "a much higher strain." The tale was ad- 
 mitted to possess all the accuracy of history, and all 
 the vivacity of romance. Scott's second novel, "Guy 
 Mannering," was attacked with some viciousness in 
 the periodical of which he was practically the founder, 
 and already the critic was anxious to repeat what Scott, 
 talking of Pope's censors, calls "the cuckoo cry of 
 'written out'!" The notice of "Waverley" in the 
 "Edinburgh Review" by Mr. Jeffrey was not so 
 
xciv EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 slight and so unworthy of the topic. The novel was 
 declared, and not unjustly, to be "very hastily, and 
 in many places very unskilfully, written." The Scotch 
 was decried as "unintelligible" dialect by the very 
 reviewer who had accused " Marmion " of not being 
 Scotch enough. But the "Edinburgh" applauded 
 "the extraordinary fidelity and felicity" with which 
 all the inferior agents in the storj'- are represented. 
 "Fastidious readers" might find Galium Beg and 
 Mrs. Nosebag and the Cumberland peasants "coarse 
 and disgusting," said the reviewer, who must have 
 had in his imagination readers extremely superfine. 
 He objected to the earlier chapters as uninteresting, 
 and — with justice — to the passages where the au- 
 thor speaks in " the smart and flippant style of modern 
 makers of paragraphs." "These form a strange and 
 humiliating contrast with the force and freedom of his 
 manner when engaged in those dramatic and pictu- 
 resque representations to which his genius so decidedly 
 inclines." He spoke severely of the places where 
 Scott explains the circumstances of Waverley's adven- 
 tures before he reaches Edinburgh; and Scott himself, 
 in his essay on Mrs. Radcliffe, regrets that explana- 
 tory chapters had ever been invented. The reviewer 
 broadly hints his belief that Scott is the author; and 
 on the whole, except for a cautious lack of enthusiasm, 
 the notice is fair and kindly. The "Monthly Re- 
 view" differed not much from the Blue and Yellow 
 (the "Edinburgh Eeview"). 
 
 " It is not one of the least merits of this very uncommon 
 production that all the subordinate characters are touched 
 with the same discriminating force which so strongly marks 
 their principals ; and that in this manner almost every variety 
 of station and interest, such as existed at the period under 
 review, is successively brought before the mind of the reader 
 in colours vivid as the original. 
 
WAVERLEY. xcv 
 
 " A few oversights, we think, we have detected in the con- 
 duet of the story which ought not to remain unnoticed. For 
 example, the age of Stanley and Lady Emily does not seem 
 well to accord with the circumstances of their union, as related 
 in the commencement of the work ; and we are not quite satis- 
 fied that Edward should have been so easily reconciled to 
 the barbarous and stubborn prejudices which precluded even 
 the office of intercession for his gallant friend and companion- 
 in-arms. 
 
 " The pieces of poetry which are not very profusely scat- 
 tered through these volumes can scarcely fail to be ascribed 
 to Mr. Scott, whatever may be judged of the body of the 
 work. In point of comparative merit, we should class them 
 neither with the highest nor with the meanest effusions of his 
 lyric minstrelsy." 
 
 Lord Byron's "Grandmother's Eeview, the British," 
 was also friendly and sagacious, in its elderly way. 
 
 "We request permission, therefore, to introduce 'Waver^ 
 ley,' a publication which has already excited considerable 
 interest in the sister kingdom, to the literary world on this 
 side the Tweed. 
 
 " A very short time has elapsed since this publication made 
 its appearance in Edinbui-gh, and though it came into the 
 world in the modest garb of anonymous obscurity, the North- 
 ern literati are unanimous, we understand, in ascribing part of 
 it, at least, to the pen of W. Scott. 
 
 " We are unwilling to consider this publication in the light 
 of a common novel whose fate it is to be devoured with rapidity 
 for a day, and afterwards forgotten for ever, but as a vehicle 
 of curious and accurate information upon a subject which 
 must at all times demand our attention, — the history and man- 
 ners of a very large and renowned portion of the inhabitants 
 of these islands. We would recommend this tale as faithfully 
 embodying the lives, the manners, and the opinions of this 
 departed race, and as affording those features of ancient days 
 which no man probably, besides its author, has had the means 
 to collect, the desire to preserve, or the power to portray. 
 
xcvi EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 "Although there arc characters sufficient to awaken the 
 attention and to diversify the scenes, yet they are not in 
 sufficient number to perplex the memory or to confuse the 
 incidents. Their spirit is well kept up till the very last, and 
 they relieve one another with so much art that the reader will 
 not find himself wearied even with the pedantic jargon of the 
 old Baron of Bradwardine. 
 
 " Of Waverley himself we shall say but little, as his char- 
 acter is far too common to need a comment; we can only say 
 that his wanderings are not gratuitous, nor is he wavering 
 and indecisive only because the author chooses to make him 
 so. Every feature in his chai-acter is formed by education, 
 and it is to this first source that we are constantly referred 
 for a just and sufficient cause of all the wandering passions as 
 they arise in his mind. 
 
 . " The secondary personages are drawn with much spirit and 
 fidelity, and with a very striking knowledge of the peculiari- 
 ties of the Scotch temper and disposition. The incidents are 
 all founded on fact, and the historical parts are related with 
 much accuracy. The livelier scenes which are displayed are 
 of the most amusing species, because they flow so naturally 
 from the personages before us that the characters, not the 
 author, appear to speak. A strong vein of very original 
 humour marks the whole : in most instances it is indeed of 
 a local and particular nature, but in many cases it assumes 
 a more general appearance. 
 
 " Of the more serious portions we can speak with unquali- 
 fied approbation; the very few pathetic scenes which occur 
 are short, dignified, and affecting. The love-scenes are suffi- 
 ciently contracted to produce that very uncommon sensation 
 in the mind, — a wish that they were longer. 
 
 " The religious opinions expressed in the course of the tale 
 are few, but of those few we fully approve. 
 
 " The humorous and happy adaptation of legal terms shows 
 no moderate acquaintance with the arcana of the law, and a 
 perpetual allusion to the English and Latin classics no common 
 share of scholarship and taste." 
 
 The "Scots Magazine" illustrated the admirable 
 unanimity of reviewers when they an unanimous, 
 
WAVERLEY. xovii 
 
 The "Anti-jacobin " objected that no Chateau-Margaux 
 sent in the wood from Bordeaux to Dundee in 1713 
 could have been drinkable in 1745. " Claret two-and- 
 thirty years old! It almost gives us the gripes to 
 think of it." Indeed, Sir Walter, as Lockhart assures 
 us, was so far from being a judge of claret that he 
 could not tell when it was "corked." One or two 
 points equally important amused the reviewer, who, 
 like most of his class, detected the hand of Scott. 
 There was hardly a possibility, as Mr. Morritt told 
 Sir Walter, that the poems in " Waverley " could fail 
 to suggest their author. "No man who ever heard 
 you tell a story over a table but must recognize you at 
 once." To his praise of "Waverley" Mr. Morritt 
 hardly added any adverse criticism, beyond doubting 
 the merit of the early chapters, and denouncing the 
 word "sombre" as one which had lately "kept bad 
 company among the slipshod English of the senti- 
 mental school." Scott, in defence, informed Mr. 
 Morritt that he had "left the story to flag in the first 
 volume on purpose. ... I wished (with what success 
 Heaven knows) to avoid the ordinary error of novelists, 
 whose first volume is usually their best." 
 
 It must be admitted that if Scott wished to make 
 "Waverley" "flag" in the beginning, he succeeded 
 extremely well, — too well for many modern readers, 
 accustomed to a leap into the midst of the story. 
 "These introductory chapters," he observes in a note on 
 the fifth of them, "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 cancel." These 
 "circumstances " are probably the studies of Waverley, 
 his romantic readings, which are really autobiographic. 
 Scott was, apparently, seriously of opinion that the 
 "mental discipline" of a proper classical education 
 
 H 
 
xcviii EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 would have been better for himself than his own de- 
 lightfully desultory studies. Ballantyne could not see 
 what Waverley's reading had to do with his adventures 
 and character. Scott persisted in being of another 
 mind. He himself, writing to Morritt, calls his hero 
 "a sneaking piece of imbecility;" but he probably 
 started with loftier intentions of "psychological analy- 
 sis " than he fulfilled. He knew, and often said, in 
 private letters, as in published works, that he was no 
 hand at a respectable hero. Borderers, buccaneers, rob- 
 bers, and humorsome people, like Dugald Dalgetty and 
 Bailie Nicol Jarvie and Macwheeble, whom he said he 
 preferred to any person in " Waverley," were the char- 
 acters he delighted in. We may readily believe that 
 Shakspeare too preferred Jacques and the Pat Knight to 
 Orlando or the favoured lover of Anne Page. Your hero 
 is a difficult person to make human, — unless, indeed, 
 he has the defects of Pendennis or Tom Jones. But it 
 is likely enough that the Waverley whom Scott had in 
 his mind in 1806 was hardly the Waverley of 1813. 
 His early English chapters are much in the ordinary 
 vein of novels as they were then written; in those 
 chapters come the "asides "by the author which the 
 " Edinburgh Review " condemned. But there remains 
 the kindly, honourable Sir Everard, while the calm 
 atmosphere of English meadows, and the plump charms 
 of Miss Cecilia Stubbs, are intended as foils to the 
 hills of the North, the shy refinement of Rose, and the 
 heroic heart of Flora Mac-Ivor. Scott wished to show 
 the remote extremes of civilization and mental habit 
 co-existing in the same island of Scotland and Eng- 
 land. Yet we regret such passages as "craving par- 
 don for my heroics, which I am unable in certain 
 cases to resist giving way to," and so forth. Scott 
 was no Thackeray, no Eielding, and failed (chiefly in 
 "Waverley ") when he attempted the mood of banter, 
 
WAVERLEY. xcix 
 
 which one of his daughters, a lady "of Beatrice's 
 mind," "never got from me," he observes. 
 
 In any serious attempt to criticise " Waverley " as 
 a whole, it is not easy to say whether we should try to 
 put ourselves at the point of view of its first readers, 
 or whether we should look at it from the vantage- 
 ground of to-day. In 1814 the dead world of clannish 
 loyalty was fresh in many memories. Scott's own 
 mother had often spoken with a person who had seen 
 Cromwell enter Edinburgh after Dunbar. He himself 
 knew heroes of the Forty-five, and his friend Lady 
 Louisa Stuart had been well acquainted with Miss 
 Walkinshaw, sister of the mistress of Charles Edward. 
 To his generation those things were personal memories, 
 which to us seem as distant as the reign of Men-ka-ra. 
 They could not but be " carried off their feet " by 
 such pictures of a past still so near them. Nor had 
 they other great novelists to weaken the force of Scott's 
 impressions. They had not to compare him with the 
 melancholy mirth of Thackeray, and the charm, the 
 magic, of his style. Balzac was of the future; of the 
 future was the Scott of France, — the boyish, the witty, 
 the rapid, the brilliant, the inexhaustible Dumas. 
 Scott's generation had no scruples about "realism," 
 listened to no sermons on the glory of the common- 
 place; like Dr. Johnson, they admired a book which 
 was "as amusing as a fairy-tale. " But we are over- 
 whelmed with a wealth of comparisons, and deafened 
 by a multitude of homilies on fiction, and distracted, 
 like the people in the Eyrhyggja Saga, by the strange 
 rising and setting, and the wild orbits of new "weird- 
 moons " of romance. Before we can make up our 
 minds on Scott, we have to remember, or forget, the 
 scornful patronage of one critic, the over-subtlety and 
 exaggerations of another, the more than papal infalli- 
 bility of a third. Perhaps the best critic would be an 
 
c EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 intelligent school-boy, with a generous heart and an 
 unspoiled imagination. As his remarks are not acces- 
 sible, as we must try to judge "Waverley " like read- 
 ers inured to much fiction and much criticism, we 
 must confess, no doubt, that the commencement has 
 the faults which the first reviewers detected, and 
 which Scott acknowledged. He is decidedly slow in 
 getting to business, as they say ; he began with more 
 of. conscious ethical purpose than he went on, and his 
 banter is poor. But when once we enter the village of 
 TuUy-Veolan, the Magician finds his wand. Each 
 picture of place or person tells, — the old butler, the 
 daft Davie Gellatley, the solemn and chivalrous Baron, 
 the pretty natural girl, the various lairds, the factor 
 Macwheeble, — all at once become living people, and 
 friends whom we can never lose. The creative fire of 
 Shakspeare lives again. The Highlanders — Evan 
 Dhu, Donald Bean Lean, his charming daughter, Gal- 
 ium Beg, and all the rest — are as natural as the Low- 
 landers. In Eergus and Elora we feel, indeed, at first, 
 that the author has left his experience behind, and is 
 giving us creatures of fancy. But they too become 
 human and natural, — Fergus in his moods of anger, 
 ambition, and final courageous resignation; Flora, in 
 her grief. As for Waverley, his creator was no doubt 
 too hard on him. Among the brave we hear that he 
 was one of the bravest, though Scott always wrote his 
 battle-pieces in a manner to suggest no discomfort, and 
 does not give us particular details of Waverley's prow- 
 ess. He has spirit enough, this "sneaking piece of 
 imbecility," as he shows in his quarrel with Fergus, 
 on the march to Derby. Waverley, that creature of 
 romance, considered as a lover, is really not romantic 
 enough. He loved Rose because she loved him, — 
 which is confessed to be unheroic behaviour. Scott, 
 in "Waverley," certainly does not linger over love- 
 
WAVERLEY. ci 
 
 scenes. With Mr. Ruskin, we may say: "Let it not 
 be thought for an instant that the slight and sometimes 
 scornful glance with which Scott passes over scenes 
 which a novelist of our own day would have analyzed 
 with the airs of a philosopher, and painted with the 
 curiosity of a gossip, indicates any absence in his 
 heart of sympathy with the great and sacred elements 
 of personal happiness." But his mind entertained 
 other themes of interest, — "loyalty, patriotism, piety." 
 On the other hand, it is necessary to differ from Mr. 
 Ruskin when he says that Scott "never knew '1' amor 
 che move '1 sol e 1' altre stelle.'" He whose heart was 
 "broken for two years," and retained the crack till his 
 dying day, he who, when old and tired, and near his 
 death, was yet moved by the memory of the name 
 which thirty years before he had cut in Runic charac- 
 ters on the turf at the Castle-gate of St. Andrew, knew 
 love too well to write of it much, or to speak of it at 
 all. He had won his ideal as alone the ideal can be 
 won; he never lost her : she was with him always, be- 
 cause she had been unattainable. "There are few," 
 he says, "who have not, at one period of life, broken 
 ties of love and friendship, secret disappointments of 
 the heart, to mourn over, — and we know no book 
 which recalls the memory of them more severely than 
 'Julia de Roubigne.'" He could not be very eager to 
 recall them, he who had so bitterly endured them, and 
 because he had known and always knew "1' amor che 
 move '1 sol e 1' altre stelle," a seal was on his lips, — 
 a silence broken only by a caress of Di Vernon's.^ 
 
 This apology we may make, if an apology be needed, 
 for what modern readers may think the meagreness of 
 the love-passages in Scott. He does not deal in em- 
 
 1 In a letter to Lady Atercorn, written when he was bnsy with 
 the " Lady of the Lake," Scott complained that he could not draw 
 a lover, in spite of his own experience. 
 
cii EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION. 
 
 braces and effusions, his taste is too manly; lie does 
 not dwell much on Love, because, like the shepherd in 
 Theocritus, he has found him an inhabitant of the 
 rocks. Moreover, when Scott began novel-writing, he 
 was as old as Thackeray when Thackeray said that 
 while at work on a love-scene he blushed so that you 
 would think he was going into an apoplexy. "Wav- 
 erley " stands by its pictures of manners, of character, 
 by its humour and its tenderness, by its manly "criti- 
 cism of life," by its touches of poetry, so various, so 
 inspired, as in Davie Gellatley with his songs, and 
 Charles Edward in the gallant hour of Holyrood, and 
 Flora with her high, selfless hopes and broken heart, 
 and the beloved Baron, bearing his lot "with a good- 
 humoured though serious composure." "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." 
 
 "Waverley" ends like a fairy-tale, while real life 
 ever ends like a N'orthern saga. But among the good 
 things that make life bearable, such fairy-tales are not 
 the least precious, and not the least enduring. 
 
 Andkew Lang. 
 
INTEODUCTION. 
 
 The plan of this edition leads me to insert in this 
 place some account of the incidents on -which the 
 N'ovel of Waveeley is founded. They have been 
 already given to the public by my late lamented 
 friend, William Erskine, Esq. (afterwards Lord Kin- 
 neder), when reviewing the "Tales of My Land- 
 lord " for the " Quarterly Eeview," in 1817. (e) The 
 particulars were derived by the critic from the Au- 
 thor's information. Afterwards they were published 
 in the preface to the "Chronicles of the Canongate." 
 They are now inserted in their proper place. 
 
 The mutual protection afforded by Waverley and 
 Talbot to each other, upon which the whole plot de- 
 pends, is founded upon one of those anecdotes 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 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 
 of Appine. The late Alexander Stewart of Invernahyle 
 was one of the foremost in the charge ; and observing an 
 officer of the king's forces, who, 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 
 
civ INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 caught in his target. The officer was now defenceless, 
 and the hattle-axe of a gigantic Highlander (the miller 
 of Invernahyle's mill) was uplifted to dash his brains 
 out, when Mr. Stewart with difficulty 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. The officer proved to be Colonel White- 
 foord, an Ayrshire gentleman of high character and 
 influence, and warmly attached to the House of 
 Hanover; yet such was the confidence existing be- 
 tween these two honourable men, though of different 
 political principles, that while the civil war was rag- 
 ing, and straggling officers from the Highland army 
 were executed without mercy, Invernahyle hesitated 
 not to pay his late captive a visit, as he returned to 
 the Highlands to raise fresh recruits, on which occa- 
 sion 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 of- 
 ficers 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 com- 
 mission from his bosom, laid it on the table before his 
 
WAVERLEY. cv 
 
 Royal Highness with much emotion, and asked permis- 
 sion to retire from the service of a soveieign who did 
 not know how to spare a vanquished enemy. The duke 
 was struck, and even affected. He bade the colonel take 
 up his commission, and granted the protection he re- 
 quired. It was issued just in time to save the house, 
 corn, and cattle at Inveruahyle from the troops, who 
 were engaged in laying waste what it was the fashion 
 to call "the country of the enemy." A small encamp- 
 ment of soldiers was formed on Invernahyle's prop- 
 erty, which they spared while plundering the country 
 around, and searching in every direction for the leaders 
 of the insurrection, and for Stewart in particular. He 
 was much nearer them than they suspected; for, hid- 
 den 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 intrusting with this commission; for her own mo- 
 tions 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. Invernahyle supported life for several 
 weeks by means of these precarious supplies; and as 
 he had been wounded in the battle of Culloden, the 
 hardships 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. 
 
ovi INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 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 main- 
 tain 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 accord- 
 ingly 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. Invernahyle 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, courteous, and brave even to chivalry. He 
 had been out, I believe, in 1716 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 MacGregor at the Clachan of 
 Balquidder. 
 
 Invernahyle chanced to be in Edinburgh when Paul 
 Jones came into the Erith 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 
 
WAVERLEY. cvii 
 
 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 like to disperse in quest 
 of plunder. I know not if his plan was attended to ; 
 I rather think it seemed too hazardous to the consti- 
 tuted authorities, who might not, even at that time, 
 desirs to see arms in Highland hands. A steady and 
 powerful west wind settled the matter, by sweeping 
 Paul Jones and his vessels out of the Frith. 
 
 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 mili- 
 tia, 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 
 circumstances 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 intrust its own protection to the 
 arms of its children, after having been obscured for 
 half a century, has, during the course of his own life- 
 time, recovered its lustre. 
 
 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 volume. 
 
PEEFACE TO THE THIED EDITION. 
 
 To this slight attempt at a sketch of ancient Scottish 
 manners, the public have been more favourable than the 
 Author durst have hoped or expected. He has heard, 
 with a mixture of satisfaction and humility, his -work 
 ascribed to more than one respectable name. Consider- 
 ations, which seem weighty in his particular situation, 
 prevent his releasing those gentlemen from suspicion 
 by placing his own name in the titlepage ; so that, for 
 the present at least, it must remain uncertain whether 
 Waveeley be the work of a poet or a critic, a lawyer 
 or a clergyman, or whether the writer, to use Mrs. 
 Malaprop's phrase, be, "like Cerberus, three gentle- 
 men at once." 
 
 The Author, as he is unconscious of anything in the 
 work itself (except perhaps its frivolity) which prevents 
 its finding an acknowledged father, leaves it to the can- 
 dour of the public to choose, among the manj' circum- 
 stances 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 unwilling 
 to avow a character to which he is unaccustomed; or he 
 may be a hackneyed author who is ashamed of too fre- 
 quent 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 
 
ex PREFACE. 
 
 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. 
 
 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 ar- 
 ticles of property, he has borne hard, and unjustly so, 
 upon their national character. Nothing 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 circumstances 
 of his situation, to a particular species of mischief. 
 Those who have perused the curious Letters from 
 the Highlands published about 1726, will fi.nd in- 
 stances of such atrocious characters which fell under 
 the writer's own observation, though it would be 
 most unjust to consider such villains as represen- 
 tatives of the Highlanders of that period, any 
 more than the murderers of Marr and Williamson 
 can be supposed to represent the English of the pre- 
 sent 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 unfortu- 
 nate little army was neither marked by devastation 
 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 with- 
 out 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 
 
PREFACE. cxi 
 
 particularly one respecting the Knight of the Mirror, 
 may be quoted as good evidence. ^ 
 
 1 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 be- 
 haviour 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 Addkess to all in general. 
 
 Now, gentle readers, I have let you ken 
 My very thoughts, from heart and pen, 
 'T is 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 ! 
 
 Ev'n both at Preston and Falkirk, 
 That fatal night ere it grew mirk. 
 Piercing the wounded with their durk. 
 
 Caused many cry ! 
 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, 
 
 Who do the same ; 
 It only teaches crueltys real 
 
 To them again. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 I 've seen the men call'd Highland Kogues, 
 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 — 't was right drole — 
 With a string of puddings hung on a pole, 
 Whip'd o'er his shoulder, skipped like a fole, 
 
 Caus'd Maggy baun, 
 Lap o'er the midden and midden-hole, 
 
 And af£ he ran. 
 
 When check'd for this, they 'd often tell ye, - - 
 
 Indeed her nainsell's a tume belly ; 
 
 You '11 no gie't wanting bouglit, nor sell me ; 
 
 Hersell will hae 't. 
 Go tell King Shorge, and Shordy's Willie, 
 
 I 'U hae a meat. 
 
 I saw the soldiers at Linton-brig, 
 Hecanse 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 sore. 
 
 And through the Highlands they were so rude 
 As leave them neither clothes nor food, 
 Then burnt their houses to conclude 
 
 'T was tit for tat. 
 How can her nainsell e'er be good. 
 
 To think on that? 
 
 And after all, oh, shame and grief ! 
 
 To use some worse than murd'ring thief. 
 
 Their very gentleman and chief, 
 
 Unhumanly ! 
 Like Popish tortures, I believe. 
 
 Such cruelty. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Ev'n what was act on open stage 
 At Carlisle, iu 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. 
 
 Oh, never do the like again; 
 
 To thirst for vengeance, never ben' 
 
 Your gun nor pa'. 
 But with the English e'en borrow and len', 
 
 Let anger fa'. 
 
 Their boasts and bullying, not worth a louse. 
 As our King 's the best about the house. 
 'T is ay good to be sober and douce. 
 
 To live in peace ; 
 ¥ov many, I see, for being o'er crouse. 
 
 Gets broken face. 
 

WAYEELEY; 
 
 'TIS SIXTY YEAES SINCE. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 The title of this work has not been chosen without 
 the grave and solid deliberation which matters of 
 importance demand from the prudent. Even its 
 first or general denomination was the result of no 
 common research or selection, although, according 
 to the example of my predecessors, I had only to 
 seize upon the most sounding and euphonic sur- 
 name 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?j I must modestly admit I am 
 too diffident of my own merit to place it in unne- 
 cessary opposition to preconceived associations; I 
 have, therefore, like a maiden knight with his white 
 shield, assumed for my hero, Waverley, an uncon- 
 yoL. I. — 1 
 
2 WAVERLEY. 
 
 taminated name, bearing with its sound little of 
 good or evil excepting what the reader shall here- 
 after 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. Had I, for example, 
 announced in my frontispiece, " Waverley : a Tale 
 of other Days, " must not every novel-reader have 
 anticipated a castle scarce less than that of Udol- 
 pho, of which the eastern wing had long been un- 
 inhabited, 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 ? Would not the owl have 
 shrieked and the cricket cried in my very title- 
 page? 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? 
 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 Eosicrucians 
 and Illuminati, with all their properties of black 
 cowls, caverns, daggers, electrical machines, trap- 
 doors, and dark -lanterns ? Or if I had rather 
 chosen to call my work a " Sentimental Tale, " 
 would it not have been a sufficient presage of a 
 heroine with a profusion of auburn hair, and a 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 3 
 
 harp, the soft solace of her solitary hours, which 
 she fortunately finds always the means of trans- 
 porting 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 Waver- 
 ley 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, — 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 titlepage, and displaying at the 
 same time my own intimate knowledge of the par- 
 ticular ingredients necessary to the composition of 
 romances and novels of various descriptions ; but it 
 is enough, and I scorn to tyrannize longer over the 
 impatience of my reader, who is doubtless already 
 anxious to know the choice made by an author so 
 profoundly versed in the different branches of his 
 art. 
 
 By fixing, then, the date of my story Sixty Years 
 before this present 1st November, 1805, I would 
 have my readers understand that they will meet in 
 the following pages neither a romance of chivalry 
 nor a tale of modern manners ; that my 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 
 
4 WAVERLEY. 
 
 be clothed " in purple and in pall, " like tlie Lady 
 Alice of an old ballad, nor reduced to the primitive 
 nakedness of a modern 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 description of men than manners. A tale 
 of manners, to be interesting, must either refer to 
 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 interest- 
 ing from their novelty. Thus the coat-of-mail of 
 our ancestors, and the triple-furred pelisse of our 
 modern beaux, may, though for very differeiit rea- 
 sons, 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 windows, its elevated and gloomy roof, and 
 massive oaken table garnished with boar's-head 
 and rosemary, pheasants and peacocks, cranes and 
 cygnets, has an excellent effect in fictitious de- 
 scription. Much may also be gained by a lively 
 display of a modem fite, 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 formality of an enter- 
 tainment 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 deline- 
 ates those of the last generation. 
 
 Considering the disadvantages inseparable from 
 this part of my subject, I must be understood to have 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 5 
 
 resolved to avoid them as much as possible, by throw- 
 ing 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 heart whether it throbbed 
 under the steel corselet of the fifteenth century, the 
 brocaded coat of the eighteenth, or the blue frock 
 and white dimity waistcoat of 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 tincture may be not 
 only different, but opposed in strong contradistinc- 
 tion. The wrath of our ancestors, for example, was 
 coloured gules ; it broke forth in acts of open and 
 sanguinary violence against the objects of its fury. 
 Our malignant feelings, which must seek gratifica- 
 tion through more indirect channels, and under- 
 mine the obstacles which they cannot openly bear 
 down, may be rather said to be tinctured sahle. 
 But the deep-ruling impulse is the same in both 
 cases ; and the proud peer who can jiow 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 conflagration. 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 
 
 1 AlasT that attire, respectable and geutlemanlike in ISC') or 
 thereabouts, is now as antiquateil as the Author of " Waverley " 
 has himself become since that period. The reader of fashion will 
 please to fill up the costume with an embroidered waistcoat of 
 purple velvet or silk, and a coat of whatever colour he pleases. 
 
6 WAVERLEY. 
 
 chapter to the public. Some favourable opportuni- 
 ties of contrast have been afforded 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 un- 
 able to mix them with amusement, — a task not 
 quite so easy in this critical generation as it was 
 " Sixty Years since. " 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 WAVEKLEY HONOUE. — A EETEOSPECT. 
 
 It is, then, sixty years since Edward Waverley, the 
 hero of the following pages, took leave of his fam- 
 ily, to join the regiment of dragoons in which he 
 had lately ottained a commission. It was a mel- 
 ancholy 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 sepa- 
 rated the baronet from his younger brother, Eichard 
 Waverley, the father of our hero. Sir Everard had 
 inherited 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. Eichard, on the contrary, who 
 was ten years younger, beheld himself born to the 
 fortune of a second brother, and anticipated neither 
 dignity nor entertainment in sustaining the char- 
 acter of Will Wimble. He saw early that, to suc- 
 ceed 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 com- 
 pound passions in the same features at the same mo- 
 ment ; it would be no less difficult for the moralist to 
 analyze the mixed motives which unite to form the 
 impulse of our actions. Eichard Waverley read 
 
8 WaVERLEY. 
 
 and satisfied himself from history and sound argu- 
 ment 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 
 Eichard have anticipated that, his elder brother, 
 Sir Everard, taking to heart an early disappoint- 
 ment, would have remained a bachelor at seventy- 
 two. The prospect of succession, however remote, 
 might in that case have led him to endure drag- 
 ging through the greater part of his life as " Master 
 Eichard at the Hall, the baronet's brother, " in the 
 hope that ere its conclusion he should be distin- 
 guished as Sir Eichard Waverley, of Waverley 
 Honour, successor to a 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 ex- 
 pected at Eichard '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 practicable 
 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 therefore read 
 his recantation at the beginning of his career, and 
 entered life as an avowed Whig, and friend of the 
 Hanover succession. 
 
WAVERLEY HONOUR. 9 
 
 The ministry of George the First's time were^ 
 prudently anxious to diminish the phalanx of op- 
 position. The Tory nobility, depending for their 
 reflected lustre upon the sunshine of a court, had 
 for some time been gradually reconciling them- 
 selves to the new dynasty ; but the wealthy coun- 
 try gentlemen of England, — a rank which retained, 
 with much of ancient manners and primitive integ- 
 rity, a great proportion of obstinate and unyielding 
 prejudice, — stood aloof in haughty and sullen op- 
 position, 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 there- 
 fore Eichard Waverley met with a share of minis- 
 terial favour more than proportioned to his talents 
 or his political importance. It was, however, dis- 
 covered 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 Eichard Waverley, Esquire, was returned 
 for the ministerial borough of Barterfaith ; next, 
 that Eichard Waverley, Esquire, had taken a dis- 
 tinguished part in the debate upon the Excise Bill 
 in the support of government; and, lastly, that 
 Eichard Waverley, Esquire, had been honoured with 
 a seat at one of those boards where the pleasure of 
 serving the country is combined with other impor- 
 tant gratifications, which, to render them the more 
 acceptable, occur regularly once a quarter. 
 
 1 'Where the Chevalier Saint George, or, as he was termed, the 
 Old Pretender, held his exiled court, as his situation compelled 
 him to shift his place of residence. 
 
lo WAVERLEY. 
 
 Although these events followed each other so 
 closely that the sagacity of the editor of a modern 
 newspaper would have presaged the two last 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 procrastinat- 
 ing alembic of "Dyer's Weekly Letter."^ For it 
 may be observed, in passing, that instead of those 
 mail-coaches, by means of which every mechanic 
 at his sixpenny club may nightly learn from twenty 
 contradictory channels the yesterday's news of the 
 capital, a weekly post brought, in those days, to 
 Waverley Honour, a Weekly Intelligencer, 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 Eectory, from the 
 Eectory to Squire Stubbs's 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 horny hands 
 it was generally worn to pieces in about a month 
 after its arrival. 
 
 This slow succession of intelligence was of some 
 advantage to Eichard 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 
 
 ^ Long the oracle of the country gentlemen of the high Tory 
 Iip,rty. 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 frequenting such 
 places of fashionable resort. 
 
WAVERLEY HONOUR. n 
 
 politics. The baronet, although the mildest of 
 human beings, was not without 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 could be guilty of the atrocities laid by 
 " Dyer's Letter " to the door of Eichard), 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 determined conclusion. 
 
 He examined the tree of his genealogy, which, 
 emblazoned with many an emblematic mark of 
 honour and heroic achievement, hung upon the 
 well-varnished wainscot of his hall. The nearest 
 descendants of Sir Hildebrand Waverley, failing 
 those of his eldest son Wilfred, of whom Sir Ever- 
 ard 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 re- 
 nounced all connection since the great lawsuit in 
 1670. 
 
 This degenerate scion had committed, a further 
 offence against the head and source of their gen- 
 tility by the intermarriage of their representative 
 with Judith, heiress of Oliver Bradshawe, of High- 
 ley Park, whose arms, the same with those of Brad- 
 shawe the regicide, they had quartered with the 
 ancient coat of Waverley. These offences, how- 
 ever, had vanished from Sir Everard 's recollection 
 in the heat of his resentment; and had Lawyer 
 Clippurse, for whom his groom was despatched 
 
12 , WAVERLEY. 
 
 express, arrived but an hour earlier, he might have 
 had the benefit of drawing a new settlement of the 
 lordship and manor of Waverley Honour, with all 
 its dependencies. But an hour of cool reflection is 
 a great matter when employed in weighing the 
 comparative 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 pre- 
 pared to minute his honour's commands. Even 
 this slight manoeuvre was embarrassing to Sir 
 Everard, who felt it as a reproach to his indeci- 
 sion. He looked at the attorney with some desire 
 to issue his fiat, when the sun, emerging from be- 
 hind a cloud, poured at once its checkered 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 
 which 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 Eoundhead ! " 
 
 All this was the effect of the glimpse of a sun- 
 beam just sufficient to light Lawyer Clippurse to 
 mend his pen. The pen was mended in vain. 
 The attorney was dismissed, with directions to 
 iiold himself in readiness on the first summons. 
 
 The apparition of Lawyer Clippurse at the Hall 
 occasioned much speculation in that portion of 
 the world to which Waverley Honour formed the 
 
WAVERLEY HONOUR. 13 
 
 centre ; but the more judicious politicians of this 
 microcosm augured yet worse consequences to 
 Eichard 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 prin- 
 ciples, 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 showed at once that she 
 durst not decline them, and that they afforded 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 effects of a retired education, the sacri- 
 fice might have been completed, as doubtless has 
 happened in many similar instances, had it not 
 been for the courage of an elder sister, who re- 
 vealed to the wealthy suitor that Lady Emily's 
 affections were fixed upon a young soldier of for- 
 tune, a near relation of her own. Sir Everard 
 manifested great emotion on receiving this intelli- 
 gence, 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 
 
14 WAVEELEY. 
 
 of the house of Waverley. With a grace and deli- 
 cacy 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 argu- 
 ments he used on this point cannot exactly be 
 known, for Sir Everard was never supposed strong 
 in the powers of persuasion ; but the young officer, 
 immediately after this transaction, rose in the 
 army with a rapidity far surpassing the usual pace 
 of unpatronized professional merit, although, to 
 outward appearance, that was all he had to depend 
 upon. 
 
 The shock which Sir Everard encountered upon 
 this occasion, although diminished by the con- 
 sciousness of having acted virtuously and gen- 
 erously, had its effect upon his future life. His 
 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 affections, not- 
 withstanding 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 innuendoes 
 of the ofBicious lady mother, and the grave eulo- 
 giums which the earl pronounced successively on 
 the prudence and good sense and admirable dispo- 
 sitions of his first, second, third, fourth, and fifth 
 
WAVERLEY HONOUR. 15 
 
 daughters. The memory of his unsuccessful amour 
 was with Sir Everard, as with many more of his 
 temper, at once shy, proud, sensitive, and indo- 
 lent, 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 gentleman 
 of an ancient descent and opulent fortune. His 
 sister. Miss Eachel 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 Eichard's interest in the 
 succession to the family estate, continued to main- 
 tain the coldness between them. Eichard knew 
 enough of the world, and of his brother's temper, 
 to believe that by any ill-considered or precipitate 
 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. Eichard had married a young 
 woman of rank, by whose family interest and pri- 
 vate 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, had strayed one morning 
 to a mile's distance from the avenue of Brerewood 
 Lodge, his father's seat. Their attention was at- 
 
i6 WAVERLEY. 
 
 tracted 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 prop- 
 erty ; 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 Ed- 
 ward, 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 build- 
 ing 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 attend- 
 ant were sent home in the carriage to Brerewood 
 Lodge with such a message as opened to Eichard 
 Waverley a door of reconciliation with liis elder 
 brother. 
 
 Their intercourse, however, though thus renewed, 
 continued to be rather formal and civil than partak- 
 
WAVERLEY HONOTJU. 17 
 
 ing of brotherly cordiality ; yet it was sufficient to 
 the wishes of both parties. Sir Everard obtained, 
 in the frequent society of his little nephew, some- 
 thing on which his hereditary pride might found 
 the anticipated pleasure of a continuation of his 
 lineage, and where his kind and gentle affections 
 could at the same time fully exercise themselves. 
 For Eichard Waverley, he beheld in the growing 
 attachment between the uncle and nephew the 
 means of securing his son's, if not his own, succes- 
 sion 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 
 man of Sir Everard 's habits and opinions. 
 
 Thus, by a sort of tacit compromise, little Edward 
 was permitted to pass the greater part of the year 
 at the Hall, and appeared to stand in the same in- 
 timate 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. 
 
CHAPTEE HI. 
 
 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 superintendence of a perma- 
 nent 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 disagree- 
 able inmate, if not a political spy, in his family. 
 He therefore prevailed upon his private secretary, 
 a young man of taste and accomplishments, to be- 
 stow an hour or two on Edward 's education while 
 at Brerewood Lodge, and left his uncle answerable 
 for his improvement in literature while an inmate 
 at the Hall. 
 
EDUCATION, 19 
 
 This was in some degree respectably provided 
 for. Sir Everard'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 ex- 
 cellent classical scholar, but reasonably skilled in 
 science, and master of most modern languages. He 
 was, however, old and indulgent, and the recur- 
 ring interregnum, during which Edward was en- 
 tirely freed from his discipline, occasioned such a 
 relaxation of authority that the youth was per- 
 mitted, in a great' measure, to learn 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 
 acquisition of knowledge, would have altogether 
 neglected it, save for the command of a taskmaster ; 
 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 uncommonly 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 acquir- 
 ing his knowledge in a slight, flimsy, and inade- 
 quate manner. And here the instructor had to 
 combat another propensity too often united with 
 brilliancy of fancy and vivacity of talent, — that 
 indolence, 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 diffi- 
 
20 WAVERLEY. 
 
 culties exhausted, and tlie novelty of pursuit at an 
 end. Edward would throw himself with spirit 
 upon any classical author of which his preceptor 
 proposed the perusal, make himself master of the 
 style so far as to understand the story, and, if that 
 pleased or interested him, he finished the volume. 
 But it was in vain to attempt fixing his attention 
 on critical distinctions of philology, upon the dif- 
 ference of idiom, the beauty of felicitous expres- 
 sion, 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 opportunity of acquiring habits of firm and 
 assiduous application, of gaining the art of control- 
 ling, 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 ne- 
 cessity of rendering instruction agreeable to youth, 
 and of Tasso's infusion of honey into the medicine 
 prepared for a child ; but an age in which children 
 are taught the driest doctrines by the insinuating 
 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 mathe- 
 matics 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 
 
EDUCATION. 21 
 
 and complicated edition of the Eoyal 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 mean- 
 time, be subject of serious consideration whether 
 those who are accustomed only to acquire instruc- 
 tion through the medium of amusement may not 
 be brought to reject that which approaches -under 
 the aspect of study ; whether those who learn his- 
 tory 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 per- 
 mitted to seek his instruction only according to 
 the bent of his own mind, and who, of conse- 
 quence, only sought it so long as it afforded him 
 amusement, the indulgence of his tutors was at- 
 tended with evil consequences which long con- 
 tinued to influence his character, happiness, and 
 utility. 
 
 Edward's power of imagination and love of liter- 
 ature, although the former was vivid, and the latter 
 ardent, were so far from affording a remedy to this 
 peculiar evil that they rather inflamed and in- 
 creased its violence. The library at Waverley 
 Honour — a large Gothic room, with double arches 
 and a gallery — contained such a miscellaneous and 
 extensive collection of volumes as had been assem- 
 bled 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 
 
22 WAVERLEY. 
 
 furnish their shelves with the current literature of 
 the day, without much scrutiny or nicety of dis- 
 crimination. 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 withdraw his attention at 
 stated times from the progress of his patron's pre- 
 sumptive heir, induced him readily to grasp at any 
 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 Eachel Waverley, held the common 
 doctrine that idleness is incompatible with reading 
 of any kind, and that the mere tracing the alpha- 
 betical characters with the eye is in itself a useful 
 and meritorious task, without scrupulously consid- 
 ering 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, 
 especially under such opportunities of gratifying 
 it. I believe one reason why such numerous in- 
 stances of erudition occur among the lower ranks is 
 that, with the same powers of mind, the poor stu- 
 dent 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 
 Kioijjent after it ceased to excite his curiosity or 
 
EDUCATION. 23 
 
 interest ; and it necessarily 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 chroni- 
 cles, and was particularly well acquainted with 
 Spenser, Drayton, and other poets who have exer- 
 cised themselves on romantic fiction, of all themes 
 the most fascinating to a youthful imagination be- 
 fore the passions have roused themselves and de- 
 mand 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 gratification in the numerous 
 collections of novelle which were brought forth by 
 the genius of that elegant, though luxurious, nation 
 in emulation of the Decameron. In classical liter- 
 ature 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 ro- 
 mances so well written as hardly to be distin- 
 guished from memoirs. The splendid pages of 
 Eroissart, with his heart-stirring and eye-dazzling 
 descriptions of war and of tournaments, were among 
 his chief favourites ; and from those of Brantome and 
 
24 WAVERLEY. 
 
 De la None he learned to compare the wild and 
 loose yet superstitious 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 nations 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 Waverley 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 in- 
 deed 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 
 Eichard 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. 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 CASTLE-BUILDING. 
 
 I HAVE already hinted that the dainty, squeamish, 
 and fastidious 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. 
 
 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 ap- 
 prehension. He tried to counterbalance these pro- 
 pensities by engaging his nephew in field-sports, 
 which had been the chief pleasure of his own 
 youthful days. But although Edward eagerly car- 
 ried 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 devised for 
 the relief of idleness, fishing is the worst qualified 
 to amuse a man who is at once indolent and impa- 
 tient; 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 
 
26 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 educa- 
 tion 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 accomplished and well-edu- 
 cated young men of his own rank and expectations, 
 he felt an inferiority in their company, not so 
 much from deficiency of information, as from the 
 want of the skill to command and to arrange that 
 which he possessed. A deep and increasing sensi- 
 bility added to this dislike of society. The idea of 
 having committed the slightest solecism in polite- 
 ness, 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 
 etiquette, or excited ridicule. Where we are not 
 at ease, we cannot be happy; and therefore it is 
 not surprising that Edward Waverley supposed that 
 he disliked and was unfitted for society, merely be- 
 cause 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 
 
CASTLE-BUILDING. 27 
 
 exhausted in listening to the oft-repeated tale of 
 narrative old age. Yet even there his imagina- 
 tion, the predominant faculty of his mind, was 
 frequently excited. Family tradition and genea- 
 logical 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 me- 
 dium. If, therefore, Edward Waverley yawned at 
 times over the dry deduction of his line of ances- 
 tors, with their various intermarriages, and in- 
 wardly deprecated the remorseless and protracted 
 accuracy with which the worthy Sir Everard re- 
 hearsed the various degrees of propinquity 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 mold- 
 warps, 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 on the evening when 
 the betrothed of his heart had wedded the hero who 
 had protected her from insult and oppression dur- 
 ing his absence ; the generosity with which the 
 Crusader relinquished his claims, and sought in a 
 
28 WAVERLEY. 
 
 neighbouring cloister that peace which passeth not 
 away,^ — to these and similar tales he would hearken 
 till his heart glowed and his eye glistened. Nor 
 was he less affected when his aunt, Mrs. Eachel, 
 narrated the sufferings and fortitude of Lady Alice 
 Waverley during the Great Civil "War. The be- 
 nevolent features 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 hour's diversion, 
 that the king might have that space for escape. 
 " And, God help her, " would Mrs. Eachel con- 
 tinue, 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, mor- 
 tally wounded ; and you may trace the drops of his 
 blood from the great hall door along the little gal- 
 lery, 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 pur- 
 pose of his desperate defence was attained. Ah ! I 
 
 1 There is a family legend to this purpose helonging to the 
 knightly family of Bradshaigh, the proprietors of Haigh-hall, 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 distance being great and the 
 intercourse infrequent, false reports concerning the fate of the 
 absent Crusaders must have been commonly circulated, and some- 
 times perhaps rather hastily credited at home. 
 
CASTLE-BUILDING. 29 
 
 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 — I cannot think of the 
 date ; but I remember, in the November of that very 
 year when she found herself sinking, 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 
 dropped 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 corner 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 imag- 
 inary events are presented in action, as it were, to 
 the eye of the muser. Then arose in long and fair 
 array the splendour of the bridal feast at Waverley 
 Castle ; 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 ; 
 
30 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 forever from the 
 house of his ancestors. Then would he change the 
 scene, and fancy would at his wish represent Aunt 
 Eachel'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 swollen 
 stream; it comes nearer, and Edward can plainly 
 distinguish the galloping of horses, the cries and 
 shouts of men, with straggling pistol-shots be'r 
 tween, rolling forwards to the hall. The lady 
 starts up, a terrified menial rushes in — But 
 why pursue such a description? 
 
 As living in this ideal world became daily more 
 (Jelectable to our hero, interruption was disagree- 
 able in proportion. The extensive domain that 
 surrounded the Hall — which, far exceeding the 
 dimensions of a park, was usually termed Waver- 
 ley 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 grey- 
 hounds, or to gain an aim at him with the cross- 
 
CASTLE-BUILDING. 31 
 
 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, he used to pursue one of these long 
 avenues which, after an ascending sweep of four 
 miles, gradually narrowed into a rude and con- 
 tracted 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 per- 
 ilous times, it had often been the refuge of the 
 family. There, in the wars of York and Lancaster, 
 the last adherents of the Eed Rose who dared to 
 maintain her cause, carried on a harassing and 
 predatory warfare, till the stronghold was reduced 
 by the celebrated Eichard of Gloucester. Here, 
 too, a party of Cavaliers long maintained them- 
 selves under Nigel Waverley, elder brother of that 
 William whose fate Aunt Eachel 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 bril- 
 liant 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. 
 
CHAPTEK V. 
 
 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 anticipate, in the following 
 tale, an imitation of the romance of Cervantes. 
 But he will do my prudence injustice in the sup- 
 position. 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 roman- 
 tic tone and colouring. So far was Edward Waver- 
 ley from expecting general sympathy with his own 
 feelings, or concluding that the present state of 
 things was calculated to exhibit the reality of 
 those visions in which he loved to indulge, that he 
 dreaded nothing more than the detection 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 sensi- 
 ble 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 
 
CHOICE or A PROEESSION. 33 
 
 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 awak- 
 ening passions. Female forms of exquisite grace 
 and beauty began to mingle in his mental adven- 
 tures ; 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 heb- 
 domadal 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 con- 
 formity of taste, that Miss Cecilia more than once 
 crossed Edward in his favourite walks through 
 Waverley Chase. He had not as yet assumed cour- 
 age to accost her on these occasions ; but the meet- 
 ing was not without its effect. 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 pass- 
 able 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 
 imagination, with supernatural beauty, and all the 
 properties of intellectual 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, 
 
 1 See Hoppner's tale of the Seven Lovers. 
 VOL. I. — 3 
 
34 WAVBRLEY. 
 
 Mrs. Eachel Waverley gained some intimation 
 which determined her to prevent the approaching 
 apotheosis. Even the most simple and unsuspi- 
 cious of the female sex have (G-od bless them !) an 
 instinctive sharpness of perception in such matters 
 which sometimes goes the length of observing par- 
 tialities that never existed, but rarely misses to 
 detect such as pass actually under their observa- 
 tion. Mrs. Eachel applied herself with great pru- 
 dence, 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 con- 
 stant 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 know- 
 ledge, 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 Godol- 
 phin's administration, he encountered every meas- 
 ure of government. 
 
 Aunt Eachel's anxiety, however, lent her address 
 to carry her point. Every representative of their 
 house had visited foreign parts or served his coun- 
 try in the army before he settled for life at Waver- 
 ley Honour, and she appealed for the truth of her 
 
CHOICE OP A. PROFESSION. 35 
 
 assertion to the genealogical pedigree, — an author- 
 ity which Sir Everard was never known to con- 
 tradict. In short, a proposal was made to Mr. 
 Eichard Waverley that his son should travel, under 
 the direction of his present tutor, Mr. Pembroke, 
 with a suitable allowance from the baronet's liber- 
 ality. 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 ob- 
 served, was such as would render it highly improper 
 that a young gentleman of such hopeful prospects 
 should travel on the Continent with a tutor, doubt- 
 less of his uncle's choosing, and directing his course 
 by his instructions. What might Mr. Edward 
 Waverley's society be at Paris, what at Eome, 
 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. Eichard Waverley's merits that if his son 
 adopted the army for a few years, a troop, he be- 
 lieved, might be reckoned upon in one of the dra- 
 goon regiments lately returned from Planders. 
 
 A hint thus conveyed and enforced was not to be 
 neglected with impunity ; and Eichard 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 
 
36 WAVERLEY. 
 
 his nephew. The latter barely communicated the 
 fact, and pointed out the necessary preparations for 
 joining his regiment. To his brother, Eichard was 
 more diffuse and circuitous. He coincided with 
 him, in the most flattering manner, in the propriety 
 of his son's seeing a little more of the world, and 
 was even humble in expressions of gratitude for 
 his proposed assistance ; was, however, deeply con- 
 cerned that it was now, unfortunately, not in 
 Edward's power exactly to comply with the plan 
 which had been chalked out by his best friend and 
 benefactor. He himself had thought with pain on 
 the boy's inactivity, at an age when all his ances- 
 tors had borne arms, — even royalty itself had 
 deigned to inquire whether young Waverley was 
 not now in Flanders, at an age %vhen 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 ? There was 
 no time to consult his brother's inclinations, even 
 if he could have conceived there might be objec- 
 tions on his part to his nephew's following the 
 glorious career of his predecessors. And, in short, 
 that Edward was now (the intermediate steps of 
 cornet and lieutenant being overleaped 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 par- 
 liament, 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 
 
CHOICE OP A PROFESSION. 37 
 
 cases of carbines and pistols purchased in Holland 
 and addressed to the baronet, but intercepted by 
 the vigilance of a riding officer of the excise, who 
 was afterwards tossed in a blanket on a moonless 
 night, by an association of stout yeomen, for his 
 officiousness. 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 nightgown. But there was no 
 overt act which an attainder could be founded 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. 
 
 ISTor 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 sup- 
 posed, however, that had ministers possessed any 
 real proof of Sir Everard's accession to the rebel- 
 lion, 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 Jacobitism had been gradu- 
 ally decaying, like a fire which burns out for want 
 of fuel. His Tory and High-Church principles 
 
38 WAVERLEY. 
 
 were kept up by some occasional exercise at elec- 
 tions 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 Bruns- 
 wick dynasty ; and the more so as, independent of 
 his high and conscientious ideas of paternal author- 
 ity, it was impossible, or at least highly impru- 
 dent, 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, Granvilles, and Stan- 
 leys, whose names were to be found in that mili- 
 tary record; and calling up all his feelings of 
 family grandeur 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, it were worse shame to be idle 
 than to be on the worst side, though blacker than 
 usurpation could make it. As for Aunt Eachel, 
 her scheme had not exactly terminated according 
 to her wishes, but she was under the necessity of 
 submitting to circumstances ; and her mortification 
 was diverted by the employment she found in fit- 
 ting out her nephew for the campaign, and greatly 
 consoled by the prospect of beholding him blaze in 
 complete uniform. 
 
 Edward Waverley himself received with ani- 
 mated and undefined surprise this most unexpected 
 intelligence. 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 
 
CHOICE OJ A PROFESSION. 39 
 
 with dusky fire. His tutor — or, I should say, Mr. 
 Pembroke, for he scarce assumed the name of tutor 
 — picked up about Edward's room some fragments 
 of irregular verse, which he appeared to have com- 
 posed 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 Eachel, who, with her spec- 
 tacles dimmed with tears, transferred them to her 
 commonplace-book, among choice receipts for cook- 
 ery and medicine, favourite texts, and portions 
 from High-Church divines, and a few songs, ama- 
 tory and Jacobitical, which she had carolled in 
 her younger days, from whence her nephew's poeti- 
 cal tentamina were extracted when the volume it- 
 self, 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 
 On Mirkwood Mere's romantic dell, 
 The lake returned, in chastened gleam, 
 The purple cloud, the golden beam ; 
 Eeflected in the crystal pool. 
 Headland and bank lay fair and cool ; 
 The weather-tinted rock and tower, 
 Each drooping tree, each fairy flower, 
 So true, so soft, the mirror gave, 
 As if there lay beneath the wave, 
 Secure from trouble, toil, and care, 
 A world than earthly world more fair. 
 
40 WAVEULEY. 
 
 But distant winds began to wake, 
 And roused the Genius of the Lakel 
 He heard the groaning of the oak, 
 And donned at once his sahle cloak, 
 As warrior, at the battle-cry, 
 Invests him with his panoply- ; 
 Then, as the whirlwind nearer pressed. 
 He 'gan to shake his foamy crest 
 'O'er furrowed brow and blackened cheek, 
 And bade his surge in thunder speak. 
 In wild and broken eddies whirled, 
 Flitted that fond ideal world. 
 And to the shore, in tumult tost, 
 The realms of fairy bliss were lost. 
 
 Yet, with a stern delight and strange, 
 I saw the spirit-stirring change. 
 As warred the wind with wave and wood, 
 Upon the ruined tower I stood, 
 And felt my heart more strongly bound, 
 Responsive to the lofty sound, 
 While, joying in the mighty roar, 
 I mourned that tranquil scene no more. 
 
 So on the idle dreams of youth 
 Breaks the loud trumpet-call of truth, 
 Bids each fair vision pass away. 
 Like landscape on the lake that lay. 
 As fair, as flitting, and as frail 
 As that which fled the autunm gale. 
 Forever dead to fancy's eye 
 Be each gay form that glided by, 
 While dreams of love and lady's charms 
 Give place to honour and to arms ! 
 
 In sober prose, as perhaps these verses intimate 
 less decidedly, the transient idea of Miss Cecilia 
 Stubbs passed from Captain Waverley'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 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 41 
 
 Kachel, 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 excel- 
 lent 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 genu- 
 ine 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 embroi- 
 dered 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, 
 But on bold yeoman, flower of all the West, 
 Hight Jonas Culbertfield, the steward's son. 
 
 Craving pardon for my heroics (which I am un- 
 able 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 
 dissipation 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 baronet's stew- 
 ard, and heir (no unfertile prospect) to a steward's 
 
42 WAVERLEY. 
 
 fortune, besides the snug probability of succeeding 
 to his father's office. 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 Eachel, who had hitherto 
 looked rather askance upon the presumptuous dam- 
 sel (as much so, peradventure, as her nature 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- 
 cwm-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 Jacob- 
 ites. 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 ex- 
 plain the motives on which its action proceeded ; 
 and these motives necessarily arose from the feel- 
 ings, prejudices, and parties of the times. I do 
 not invite my fair readers, whose sex and impa- 
 tience give them the greatest right to complain of 
 these circumstances, into a flying chariot drawn 
 by hippogriffs, or moved by enchantment. Mine 
 is a humble English post-chaise, drawn upon four 
 wheels, and keeping his Majesty's highway. Such 
 as dislike the vehicle may leave it at the next 
 halt, and wait for the conveyance of Prince Hus- 
 sein's tapestry, or Malek the Weaver's flying 
 sentry-box. Those who are contented to remain 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 43 
 
 with me will be occasionally exposed to the dul- 
 ness 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 to get as soon as 
 possible into a more picturesque and romantic 
 country, if my passengers incline to have some 
 patience with me during my first stages. 1 
 
 ' These Introductory 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 cancel. 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE ADIEUS OF WAVERLEY. 
 
 It was upon the evening of this memorable Sun- 
 day that Sir Everard entered the library, where he 
 narrowly missed surprising our young hero as he 
 went through the guards of the broadsword with 
 the ancient weapon of old Sir Hildebrand, which, 
 being preserved as an heirloom, usually hung over 
 the chimney in the library, beneath a picture of 
 the knight and his horse, where the features were 
 almost entirely hidden by the knight's profusion 
 of curled hair, and the Bucephalus which he be- 
 strode concealed by the voluminous robes of the 
 Bath with which he was decorated. Sir Everard 
 entered, and after a glance at the picture and an- 
 other at his nephew, began a little speech, which, 
 however, soon dropped into the natural simplicity 
 of his common manner, agitated upon the present 
 occasion by no common feeling. " Nephew, " he 
 said ; and then, as mending 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 arrange- 
 ments as will euE^ble you to take the field as their 
 descendant and as the probable heir of the house of 
 Waverley ; and, sir, in the field of battle you will 
 
THE ADIEUS OE WAVERLEY. 45 
 
 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, gam- 
 blers, 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 ex- 
 cellent man — for a Presbyterian ; but you will 
 remember your duty to God, the Church of Eng- 
 land, and the — " (this breach ought to have been 
 supplied, according to the rubric, with the word 
 " king ; " but as, unfortunately, that word con- 
 veyed a double and embarrassing sense, one mean- 
 ing de facto, and the other de jure, the knight filled 
 up the blank otherwise) " the Church of England 
 and all constituted authorities. " Then, not trust- 
 ing himself with any further oratory, he carried 
 his nephew to his stables to see the horses destined 
 for his campaign. Two were black, — the regi- 
 mental 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 baronet, " compared to Sir Hildebrand 
 when he mustered before the gate of the Hall a 
 larger body of horse than your whole regiment con- 
 sists of. I could have wished that these twenty 
 young fellows from my estate, who have enlisted 
 in your troop, had been to march with you on your 
 journey to Scotland. It would have been some- 
 thing, at least; but I am told their attendance 
 
46 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 un- 
 natural disposition of the times ; for he had bright- 
 ened the chain of attachment 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 conducted his nephew 
 to the library, where he produced a letter, care- 
 fully folded, surrounded by a little stripe of flox- 
 silk, according 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 Bradwardine, at his 
 principal mansion of Tully-Veolan, in Perthshire, 
 North Britain. These — By the hands of Captain 
 Edward Waverley, nephew of Sir Everard Waver- 
 ley, of Waverley Honour, Bart. " 
 
 The gentleman to whom this enormous greeting 
 was addressed, 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 Preston and London he made 
 
THE ADIEUS OE WAVERLEY. 47 
 
 his escape from his guards ; but being afterwards 
 found loitering near the place where they had 
 lodged the former night, he was recognized, and 
 again arrested. His companions, and even his 
 escort, were surprised at his infatuation, 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 anecdote 
 struck the gentleman who, as we before observed, 
 had managed the defence of some of those unfortu- 
 nate persons, at the expense of Sir Everard and 
 perhaps some others of the party. He was, be- 
 sides, himself a special admirer of the old Pata- 
 vinian, and though probably his own zeal might 
 not have carried him such extravagant lengths, 
 even to recover the edition of Sweynheim and 
 Pannartz {g) (supposed to be the princeps), he did 
 not the less estimate the devotion of the North 
 Briton, and in consequence exerted himself to so 
 much purpose to remove and soften evidence, de- 
 tect legal flaws, et cetera, that he accomplished the 
 final discharge and deliverance of Cosmo Comyne 
 Bradwardine from certain very awkward conse- 
 quences of a plea before our sovereign lord the 
 king in Westminster. 
 
 The Baron of Bradwardine — for he was gener- 
 ally so called in Scotland, although his intimates, 
 from his place of residence, used to denominate 
 him Tully-Veolan, or, more familiarly, TuUy — ■ no 
 sooner stood rectus in curia than he posted down to 
 pay his respects and make his acknowledgments at 
 ' Note I.— Titus Livius. 
 
48 WAVERLEY. 
 
 Waverley Honour. A congenial passion for field- 
 sports and a general coincidence in political opin- 
 ions cemented his friendship with Sir Everard, 
 notwithstanding the difference of their habits and 
 studies in other particulars; and having spent 
 several weeks at "Waverley Honour, the Baron de- 
 parted, with many expressions 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 remitted from Scotland a sum in re- 
 imbursement 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 sum of money out of 
 his native country into the hands of the false Eng- 
 lish. 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 
 fund which he considered as more particularly his 
 own. But the bailie protested he was absolutely 
 disinterested, — 
 
 " Woe, woe, for Scotland ; not a whit for me ! " 
 
THE ADIEUS OE WAVERLEY. 49 
 
 The laird was only rejoiced that his worthy friend 
 Sir Everard Waverley of Waverley Honour was 
 reimbursed of the expenditure which he had out- 
 laid on account of the house of Bradwardine. 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. Qd., without being aware that the pay- 
 ment was an international concern, and, indeed, 
 would probably have forgot the circumstance alto- 
 gether if Bailie Macwheeble had thought of com- 
 forting 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 Tully-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 ; all which were meant, sent, and 
 received as pledges of constant friendship and amity 
 between two important houses. It followed, as a 
 matter of course, that the heir-apparent of Waver- 
 ley Honour could not with propriety visit Scotland 
 without being furnished with credentials to the 
 Baron of Bradwardiiie. 
 
 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 unblemished 
 life and morals, to hold fast the principles of the 
 Christian religion, and to eschew the profane com- 
 pany of scoffers and latitudinarians, too much 
 
JO WAVERLEY. 
 
 abounding in the army, were not unmingled witli 
 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 glimmer- 
 ing light ; there was a hierarchy, though schismati- 
 cal, and fallen from the principles maintained by 
 those great fathers of the Church, Bancroft and his 
 brethren ; there was a liturgy, though wofuUy per- 
 verted in some of the principal petitions. But in 
 Scotland it was utter darkness; and excepting a 
 sorrowful, 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 appeared 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 inten- 
 tion 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 in- 
 structed 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 Shib- 
 boleth, with the appropriate gesture, the bibliopolist 
 
THE ADIEUS OE WAVERLEY. 51 
 
 greeted hinj, 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 commenced : 
 " 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 ? And how does the worthy 
 king of France ? Or perhaps you are more lately 
 from Eome ? It must be Eome will do it at last ; 
 the Church must light its candle at the old lamp. 
 Eh, what, cautious ? I like you the better ; but no 
 fear. " 
 
 Here Mr. Pembroke with some difficulty 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 : showing the Im- 
 possibility of any Composition between the Church 
 and Puritans, Presbyterians, or Sectaries of any 
 Description; illustrated from the Scriptures, the 
 Fathers of the Church, and the soundest Contro- 
 versial 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 hun- 
 dred 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, — 
 
52 WAVERLEY. 
 
 why, I would venture something for the honour 
 of the cloth. But come, let's see the other. 
 'Eight Hereditary righted!' Ah, there's some 
 sense in this. Hum — hum — hum — pages so 
 many ; paper so much ; letter-press — Ah, I '11 
 tell you, though, Doctor, you must knock out some 
 of the Latin and Greek, — heavy, Doctor, damned 
 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 Amhurst. ^ 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 show 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 mounted in Old 
 Palace Yard, — all Whigs and Eoundheads, 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 deter- 
 mined him against undertaking the work. " Not 
 but what I would go to — what was I going to say ? 
 — to the Plantations for the Church with pleasure ; 
 but, dear Doctor, I have a wife and family : but, to 
 show my zeal, I '11 recommend the job to my neigh- 
 bour Trimmel, — 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, per- 
 
 1 Note II. — Nicholas Amhurst. 
 
THE ADIEUS OE WAVERLEY. 53 
 
 chance, 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 re- 
 solved 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. Eichard Waverley that he would 
 impress no sentiments upon Edward's mind incon- 
 sistent with the present settlement in church 
 and state. But now, thought he, I may, without 
 breach of my word, since he is no longer under my 
 tuition, afford 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 com- 
 pact lines of the manuscript, quietly consigned 
 them to a corner of his travelling-trunk. 
 
 Aunt Eachel's farewell was brief and affectionate. 
 She only cautioned her dear Edward, whom she 
 probably deemed somewhat susceptible, against the 
 fascination of Scottish beauty. She allowed that 
 the northern part of the island contained some an- 
 cient families, but they were all Whigs and Pres- 
 byterians, 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 
 
54 WAVERLEY. 
 
 the least, very singular, and not at all decorous. 
 She concluded her farewell with a kind and moving 
 benediction, and 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. 
 
CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 A HOESE-QUAETEE 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 direc- 
 tion, Edward Waverley departed from the Hall 
 amid the blessings and tears of all the old domes- 
 tics and the inhabitants of the village, mingled 
 with some sly petitions for sergeantcies and cor- 
 poralships, and so forth, on the part of those who 
 professed that " they never theft 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 himself from the suppli- 
 cants with the pledge of fewer promises than might 
 have been expected from a young man so little ac- 
 customed 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. Colo- 
 nel Gardiner, the commanding officer of the regi- 
 ment, was himself a study for a romantic, and at 
 the same time an incLuisitive, youth. In person^ 
 
S6 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 in- 
 fidelity, 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 enthu- 
 siast, none hinted at his being a hypocrite. This 
 singular and mystical circumstance gave Colonel 
 Gardiner a peculiar and solemn interest in the eyes 
 of the young soldier. ^ It may be easily imagined 
 that the officers 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 realize the fable of the Cen- 
 taur, 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 past, his ' 
 progress fell short in the latter particular of what 
 he wished and expected. The duty of an officer, 
 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 arithmeti- 
 1 Note III. Colonel Gardiner. 
 
A HORSE-QUARTER IN SCOTLAND, 57 
 
 cal 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 inferiority 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 al- 
 ways successful in disentangling the various partial 
 movements necessary to execute a particular evo- 
 lution ; 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 military duty beneath his 
 notice, or conceiting himself to be born 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 riveted attention. 
 Time, in the meanwhile, hung heavy on his hands. 
 The gentry of the neighbourhood were disaffected, 
 and showed little hospitality to the military guests ; 
 and the people of the town, chiefly engaged in mer- 
 cantile pursuits, were not such as Waverley 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 
 
S8 WAVERLEY. 
 
 and correspondent, with the purpose of extending 
 or shortening the time of his residence according to 
 circumstances. He travelled, of course, on horse- 
 back 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 Perthshire, 
 which at first had appeared a blue outline in the 
 horizon, but now swelled into huge, gigantic masses, 
 which frowned defiance over the more level country 
 that lay beneath them. Near the bottom of this 
 stupendous barrier, but still in the Lowland coun- 
 try, dwelt Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine of Brad- 
 wardine, and if gray-haired eld can be in aught 
 believed, there had dwelt his ancestors, with all 
 their heritage, since the days of the gracious King 
 Duncan. 
 
 1 Note IV.— Scottish Inns. 
 
CHAPTER VITI. 
 
 A SCOTTISH MANOR-HOUSE SIXTY YEAES 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, 
 without any respect for regularity, on each side 
 of a straggling kind of unpaved street, where chil- 
 dren, 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 
 consummation seemed inevitable, a watchful old 
 gran dam, with her close cap, distaff, and spindle, 
 rushed like a sibyl in frenzy out of one of these 
 miserable cells, dashed into the middle of the path, 
 and snatching up her own charge from among the 
 sun-burned loiterers, saluted him with a sound cuff, 
 and transported 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. An- 
 other 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, 
 
6o WAVERLEY. 
 
 who, like other travellers, longed to find a good 
 and rational reason for everything he saw, has re- 
 corded, 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 paste (too starved and exhausted to move 
 without such a stimulus) from one hamlet to an- 
 other, 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 pres- 
 ent purpose, and is only thrown out for considera- 
 tion 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 re- 
 sembled Italian forms of landscape. Nor could a 
 lover of the picturesque 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 " comfortable, " — a 
 word peculiar to his native tongue, — might have 
 wished the clothes less scanty, the feet and legs 
 somewhat protected from the weather, the head 
 and complexion shrouded from the sun, or perhaps 
 might even have thought the whole person and dress 
 
A SCOTTISH MANOR-HOUSE. 6i 
 
 considerably improved, by a plentiful application 
 of spring water, with a quantum suffi,cit 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 afore- 
 said 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 physiognomy of the 
 people, when more closely examined, was far from 
 exhibiting the indifference of stupidity ; their feat- 
 ures were rough, but remarkably intelligent, — 
 grave, but the very reverse of stupid; and from 
 among the young women an artist might have 
 chosen more than one model whose features and 
 form resembled those of Minerva. The children, 
 also, whose skins were burned black, and whose 
 hair was bleached white, by the influence of the 
 sun, had a look and manner of life and interest. 
 It seemed, upon the whole, as if poverty, and in- 
 dolence, its too frequent companion, were combin- 
 ing 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 Tully-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, 
 
62 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 un- 
 known, but which were stored with gigantic plants 
 of kale, or colewort, encircled with groves of net- 
 tles, 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 
 tan-pits. The dry-stone walls which fenced, or 
 seemed to fence (for they were sorely breached), 
 these hanging gardens of Tully-Veolan were inter- 
 sected by a narrow lane leading to the common 
 field, where the joint labour of the villagers culti- 
 vated alternate ridges and patches of rye, oats, bar- 
 ley, and pease, each of such minute extent that at 
 a little distance the unprofitable variety of the sur- 
 face resembled a tailor's book of patterns. In a few 
 favoured instances there appeared behind the cot- 
 tages a miserable 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 bowshot 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 
 
A SCOTTISH MANOR-HOUSE. 63 
 
 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 sycamores, which 
 rose to such huge height, and flourished so luxuri- 
 antly, that their boughs completely overarched 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 en- 
 joying a constant shade, it was clothed with grass 
 of a deep and rich verdure, excepting where a foot- 
 path, worn by occasional passengers, 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 
 corners 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 min- 
 gled well with the struggling light which found 
 
64 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 monastic; and Waverley, who had 
 given his horse to his servant on 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 confined 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 cor- 
 responded with the rest of the scene. The house, 
 which seemed to consist of two or three high, 
 narrow, and steep-roofed buildings, projecting from 
 each other at right angles, formed one side of the 
 enclosure. It had been built at a period when 
 castles were no longer necessary, and when the 
 Scottish architects had not yet acquired the art of 
 designing a domestic residence. The windows 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 abso- 
 lute security from danger. There were loop-holes 
 for musketry, and iron stanchions on the lower 
 windows, — probably to repel any roving band of 
 Gypsies, or resist a predatory visit from the Cate- 
 rans of the neighbouring Highlands. Stables and 
 other offices occupied another side of the square. 
 The former were low vaults, with narrow slits in- 
 stead of windows, resembling, as Edward's groom 
 observed, " rather a prison for murderers and larce- 
 ners and such like as are tried at 'sizes, than a place 
 for any Christian cattle. " Above these dungeon- 
 
.-*■:... 
 
A SCOTTISH MANOR-HOUSE. 65 
 
 looking stables were granaries, called " girnels, " 
 and other offices, to which there was access by out- 
 side stairs of heavy masonry. Two battlemented 
 walls, one of which faced the avenue, and the 
 other divided the court from the garden, completed 
 the enclosure. 
 
 Nor was the court without its ornaments. In 
 one corner was a tun-bellied pigeon-house, of great 
 size and rotundity, resembling in figure and pro- 
 portion the curious edifice called Arthur's Oven, 
 which would have turned the brains of all the 
 antiquaries in England, had not the worthy pro- 
 prietor pulled it down, for the sake of mending a 
 neighbouring dam-dike. This dovecot, or colum- 
 barium, as the owner called it, was no small re- 
 source to a Scottish laird of that period, whose 
 scanty rents were eked 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 foun- 
 tain, where a huge bear, carved in stone, predomi- 
 nated 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, termi- 
 nated the spouts, and supported the turrets, with 
 the ancient family motto, ♦♦ %t\mX t\)t 115ar," cut 
 under each hyperborean form. The court was spa- 
 cious, 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 
 
 VOL. I. — 5 
 
66 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 life. ^ 
 
 1 There is no particular mansion described under the name of 
 TuUy-Veolan ; but the peculiarities of the description occur in 
 various old Scottish seats. The house of Warrender, upon Burnts- 
 field 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 description in the text. The 
 house of, Dean, near Edinburgh, has also some points of resem- 
 blance with Tully-Veolan. The Author has, however, been in- 
 formed that the house of Grandtully resembles that of the Baron 
 of Bradwardine still more than any of the above. (A) 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MOKE 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 court-yard walls without the house, start- 
 ling the pigeons from the venerable rotunda which 
 they occupied, and alarming anew even the distant 
 village curs, which had retired to sleep upon their 
 respective 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 he 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 man- 
 sion, 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 
 
68 WAVERLEY. 
 
 was only latched, notwithstanding its fortified ap- 
 pearance, 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, 
 extended its irregular yet venerable front along a 
 terrace partly paved, partly gravelled, partly bor- 
 dered with flowers and choice shrubs. This eleva- 
 tion 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 from space to space 
 with huge grotesque figures of animals seated upon 
 their haunches, among which the favourite bear 
 was repeatedly introduced! Placed in the middle 
 of the terrace, between a sashed door opening from 
 the house and the central fl,ight of steps, a huge 
 animal of the same species supported on his head 
 and forepaws a sun-dial of large circumference, in- 
 scribed with more diagrams than Edward's mathe- 
 matics 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 gro- 
 tesque 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 ap- 
 pearance where it served as a boundary to the gar- 
 den, but near the extremity leaped in tumult over 
 
 1 At Ravelston may be seen such a garden, which the taste of 
 the proprietor, the author's friend and kinsman, Sir Alexander 
 Keith,. Knight Mareschal, has judiciously preserved. That as 
 •well as the house, is, however, of smaller dimensions than the 
 Baron of Bradwardine's mansion and garden are presumed to have 
 been. 
 
A SCOTTISH MANOR-HOUSE. 69 
 
 a strong dam, or weir-head, the cause of its tem- 
 porary 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 for- 
 mer habitation of the Barons of Bradwardine. The 
 margin of the brook, opposite to the garden, dis- 
 played a narrow meadow, or " haugh, " as it was 
 called, which formed a small washing-green; the 
 bank, which retired behind it, was covered by an- 
 cient trees. 
 
 The scene, though pleasing, was not quite equal 
 to the gardens of Alcina, yet wanted not the " due 
 donzelette 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 office of a patent washing-machine. 
 These did not, however, like the maidens of Ar- 
 mida, 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 different directions. 
 
 Waverley began to despair of gaining entrance 
 into this solitary and seemingly enchanted man- 
 sion, when a man advanced up one of the garden 
 alleys, where he still retained his station. Trust- 
 ing this might be a gardener, or some domestic be- 
 
70 WAVERLEY. 
 
 longing to the house, Edward descended the steps 
 in order to meet him ; but as the figure approached, 
 and long before he could descry its features, he was 
 struck with the oddity of its appearance and ges- 
 tures. 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-coachman 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 ges- 
 tures, for at times he hopped with great perse- 
 verance 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 gray 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. Ed- 
 ward, whom he did not seem to observe, now per- 
 ceived 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 some- 
 thing that resembled a compound of both, where 
 the simplicity of the fool was mixed with the ex- 
 travagance of a crazed imagination. He sung with 
 great earnestness, and not without some taste, a 
 fragment of an old Scottish ditty. 
 
A SCOTTISH MANOR-HOUSE. >i 
 
 False love, and hast thou played me this 
 
 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. i 
 
 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 signals of surprise, re- 
 spect, and salutation. Edward, though with little 
 hope of receiving an answer to any constant ques- 
 tion, 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, re- 
 peating his queries, received a rapid answer, in 
 which, from the haste and peculiarity of the dia- 
 lect, the word " butler " was alone intelligible. 
 Waverley then requested to see the butler; upon 
 which the fellow, with a knowing look and nod of 
 
 1 This is a genuine ancient fragment, with some alteration in 
 the two last lines. 
 
72 WAVEKLEY. 
 
 intelligence, made a signal to Edward lo follov?, 
 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 un- 
 like 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 ap- 
 pearance hovered between that of an upper servant 
 and gardener, — his red nose and ruffled shirt be- 
 longing to the former profession ; his hale and sun- 
 burned 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 indispu- 
 tably 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 gentle- 
 man's commands. Being informed that he wished 
 to pay his respects to his master, that his name 
 was Waverley, and so forth, the old man's counte- 
 nance assumed a great deal of respectful import- 
 ance. " He could take it upon his conscience to 
 say his Honour would have exceeding pleasure in 
 seeing him. Would not Mr. Waverley choose 
 
A SCOTTISH MANOR-HOUSE. 73 
 
 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 "twa"] had been ordered to attend him; 
 and he had been just amusing himself in the mean 
 time with dressing Miss Eose'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 fan- 
 tastic conductor. 
 
 A grim look from the butler chastised his inter- 
 ference, and he commanded him, by the name of 
 Davie Gellatley, in a tone which admitted no dis- 
 cussion, 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 any one whom he re- 
 spects. 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. Gel- 
 latley, 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 bole 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 country, 
 but ours is brought far ben. He used to work a 
 day's turn weel eneugh; but he helped Miss Eose 
 
74 WAVERLEY. 
 
 when she was flemit with the Laird of Killan- 
 cureit'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 mis- 
 tress (great folks will have their fancies), he has 
 done naething but dance up and down about the 
 toun, without doing a single turn, unless trimming 
 the laird's fishing- wand or busking his flies, or 
 maybe catching a dish of trouts at an orra-time. 
 But here comes Miss Eose, who, I take burden 
 upon me for her, will be especial glad to see one of 
 the house of Waverley at her father's mansion of 
 TuUy-Veolan. " 
 
 But Eose Bradwardine deserves better of her un- 
 worthy 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 
 '" town, " and a natural fool an " innocent. " ^ 
 
 1 I am ignorant how long the ancient and established custom of 
 keeping fools has been disused in England. Swift writes an epi- 
 taph 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 bans betwixt her and himself in the public church. 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 KOSE BEADWAEDINE AND HEK FATHEK. 
 
 Miss Bradwaedine 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, permanent toast-mas- 
 ter and croupier of the Bautherwhillery Club, not 
 only said " More " to the pledge in a pint bumper 
 of Bordeaux, but, ere pouring forth the libation, 
 denominated the divinity to whom it was dedi- 
 cated, — " the Eose 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 al- 
 though strong bumpers and weak brains had con- 
 signed 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 divers inarticulate sounds, intimating their 
 assent to the motion. 
 
 Such unanimous applause could not be extorted 
 but by acknowledged merit ; and Eose Bradwardine 
 not only deserved it, but also the approbation of 
 much more rational persons than the Bautherwhil- 
 lery Club could have mustered, even before discus- 
 sion of the first magnum. She was, indeed, a very 
 
76 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 mountains in whiteness. 
 Yet she had not a pallid or pensive cast of coun- 
 tenance ; 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 avoca- 
 tions, 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 
 dif&dent 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 Wa- 
 verley of the seven-league boots of the nursery 
 fable. He was a tall, thin, athletic figure, old,' 
 indeed, and gray-haired, but with every muscle 
 rendered as tough as whipcord by constant exer- 
 cise. He was dressed carelessly, and more like a 
 Frenchman than an Englishman of the period, 
 while from his hard features and perpendicular 
 rigidity of stature, he bore some resemblance to a 
 
ROSE BRADWAllDINE AND HER PATHER. 77 
 
 Swiss officer of the guards who had resided some 
 time at Paris, and caught the costume, but not the 
 ease or manner, of its inhabitants. 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 giv- 
 ing young men of rank a legal education, he had 
 been bred with a view to the Bar. But the poli- 
 tics of his family precluding the hope of his rising 
 in that profession, Mr. Bradwardine travelled, 
 with high reputation, for several years, and made 
 some campaigns in foreign service. After his 
 iUmelee with the law of high treason in 1715, he 
 had 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 mod- 
 ern of the days of the zealous volunteer service, 
 when the bar-gown of our pleaders was often flung 
 over a blazing uniform. To this must be added 
 the prejudices of ancient birth and Jacobite poli- 
 tics, greatly strengthened by habits of solitary and 
 secluded authority, which, though exercised only 
 within the bounds of his half-cultivated estate, 
 was there indisputable and undisputed. For, as 
 he used to observe, "the lands of Bradwardine, 
 TuUy-Veolan, and others, had been erected into a 
 free barony by a charter from David the First, 
 'cum liberali potest, habendi curias et justicias, 
 cum fossa et furca [lie pit and gallows] et saka et 
 soka, 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 
 
78 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 frightened 
 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 Brad- 
 wardine '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 db-la-mode FraTi^oise, and kissed 
 him on both sides of his face; while the hardness 
 of his gripe, and the quantity of Scotch snuff which 
 his accolade communicated, called corresponding 
 drops of moisture to the eyes of his guest. 
 
 "Upon the honour 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 
 Waverley, — not so portly yet as my old friend Sir 
 Bverard ; mais cela viendra avec le terns, as my 
 
EOSE BRADWARDINE AND HER FATHER. 79 
 
 Dutch acquaintance, Baron Kikkitbroeck, said of 
 the sagesse of madame son epouse. And so ye have 
 mounted the cockade ? Eight, 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. Eachel ? Ah, ye laugh, young man. In 
 troth she was the fair Mrs. Eachel in the year of 
 grace seventeen hundred and sixteen; but time 
 passes, et singula jprcedantur anni, — that is most 
 certain. But once again ye are most heartily wel- 
 come to my poor house of Tully-Veolan ! Hie to 
 the house, Eose, and see that Alexander Saunderson 
 looks out the old Oh§,teau Margoux, which I sent 
 from Bourdeaux to Dundee in the year 1713." 
 
 Eose tripped off demurely enough till she turned 
 the first corner, and then ran with the speed of a 
 fairy, that she might gain leisure, after discharg- 
 ing her father's commission, to put her owrt dress 
 in order, and produce all her little finery, — an 
 occupation for which the approaching dinner-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 'epulee' 
 rather than ' prandium, ' because the latter phrase 
 is popular. 'Epulse ad senatum, prandium vero 
 ad populum attinet,' says Suetonius Tranquillus. 
 But I trust ye will applaud my Bourdeaux, — c'est 
 des doux oreilles (i), as Captain Vinsauf used to 
 sa,j; vinum primce notm, the Principal of St. An- 
 drews denominated it. And, once more. Captain 
 Waverley, right glad am I that ye are here to 
 drink the best my cellar can make forthcoming. " 
 
8o WAVERLEY. 
 
 This speech, with the necessary interjectional 
 answers, continued 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 token of the sable stains of the garden, 
 received them in grand costume, — 
 
 In an old hall hung round with pikes and with bows, 
 With old bucklers and corselets that had borne many shrewd 
 blows. 
 
 With much ceremony, and still more real kind- 
 ness, the Baron, without stopping in any inter- 
 mediate apartment, conducted his guest through 
 several into the great dining-parlour, wainscoted 
 with black oak, and hung round with the pictures 
 of his ancestry, where a table was set forth in form 
 for six persons, and an old-fashioned beaufet dis- 
 played 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 estimable persons. " There was the 
 young Laird of Balmawhapple, a Falconer by sur- 
 name, 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 Killancureit, who had devoted his 
 leisure until tillage and agriculture, and boasted 
 himself to be possessed of a bull of matchless 
 merit, brought from the county of Devon (the 
 Damnonia of the Eomans, if we can trust Eobert 
 
ROSE BRADWAUDINE AND HER FATHER. 8i 
 
 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 bailiff, or ground-officer, or some- 
 thing in that department, to the last Girnigo 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, intermarried with the lady 
 dowager, who was young and amorous, and pos- 
 sessed himself of the estate, which devolved on 
 this unhappy woman by a settlement of her um- 
 while husband, in direct contravention of an unre- 
 corded taillie, and to the prejudice of the disponer's 
 own flesh and blood, in the person of his natural 
 heir and seventh cousin, Girnigo of Tipperhewit, 
 whose family was so reduced by the ensuing law- 
 suit, that his representative 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 his 
 veins by the mother and grandmother, 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 irre- 
 proachable lineage should exult over him, when 
 it may be that in the eighth, ninth, or tenth gen- 
 eration his progeny may rank, in a manner, with 
 the old gentry of the country. Eank and ancestry, 
 sir, should be the last words in the mouths of us 
 of unblemished race, — vix ea nostra vpco, as Naso 
 saith. There is, besides, a clergyman of the true 
 (though suffering) Episcopal Church of Scotland. 
 
82 WAVERLEY. 
 
 He was a confessor in her cause after the year 
 1715, when a Wliiggish mob destroyed his meet- 
 ing-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, be- 
 sides 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 bj'^ person and name ; 
 They entered, and dinner was served as they came, (k) 
 
 1 After the Revolution of 1688, and on some occasions when the 
 spirit of the Preshyterians had been unusually animated against 
 their opponents, the Episcopal clergymen, who were chiefly non- 
 jurors, were exposed to he mobbed, as we should now say, or 
 " rabbled," as the phrase then went, to expiate their political here- 
 sies. But notwithstanding that the Presbyterians had the perse- 
 cution in Charles II. and his brother's time to exasperate them, 
 there was little mischief done beyond the kind of petty violence men- 
 tioned in the text. 
 
CHAPTEK XL 
 
 THE BANQUET. 
 
 The entertainment was ample, and handsome ac- 
 cording 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, Waverley himself like a traveller, and 
 Bailie Macwheeble like all four together ; though, 
 either out of more respect, or in order to preserve 
 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 commu- 
 nication with his plate by projecting his person 
 towards it in a line which obliqued from the bot- 
 tom of his spine, so that the person who sat oppo- 
 site to him could only see the foretop of his riding 
 periwig. 
 
 This stooping position might have been incon- 
 venient to another person ; but long habit made it, 
 whether seated or walking, 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 scrupulous in giving place 
 to all, others), he cared very little what inference 
 
84 WAVERLEY. 
 
 of contempt or slight regard they might derive 
 from the circumstance. Hence, when he waddled 
 across the court to and from his old gray pony, he 
 somewhat resembled a turnspit walking upon its 
 hind legs. 
 
 The nonjuring clergyman was a pensive and in- 
 teresting old man, with much the air of a sufferer 
 for conscience' sake. He was one of those, 
 
 Who, undeprived, their benefice forsook. 
 
 For this whim, when the Baron was out of hear- 
 ing, the Bailie used sometimes gently to rally Mr. 
 Eubrick, upbraiding him with the nicety of his 
 scruples. Indeed, it must be owned that he him- 
 self, though at heart a keen partisan 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 particularly good man, who 
 had a very quiet and peaceful conscience, that never 
 did him any harm. 
 
 When the dinner was removed, the Baron an- 
 nounced the health of the king, politely leaving to 
 the consciences of his guests to drink to the sover- 
 eign 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 justi- 
 fied 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 evening grew more late, 
 the Baron made a private signal to Mr. Saunders 
 Saunderson, or, as he facetiously denominated him, 
 
THE BANQUET. 85 
 
 Alexander ab Alexandra, who left the room with 
 a nod, and soon after returned, his grave counte- 
 nance 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, un- 
 locked 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 rever- 
 ence, pride, and delight that irresistibly reminded 
 Waverley of Ben Jonson's Tom Otter Q), with 
 his Bull, Horse, and Dog, as that wag wittily de- 
 nominated his chief carousing cups. But Mr. 
 Bradwardine, turning towards him with compla- 
 cency, 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 grey- 
 hound currant, and, as may be inferred, a ravenous 
 animal in adu ferociori, or in a voracious, lacerat- 
 ing, and devouring posture. Now, sir, we hold 
 this most honourable achievement by the wappen- 
 brief, or concession of arms, of Frederick Eed- 
 beard. Emperor of Germany, to my predecessor, 
 Godmund 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. 
 
86 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 certain 
 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 in- 
 vested 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 es- 
 teemed a solemn standard cup and heirloom of our 
 house ; nor is it ever used but upon seasons of high 
 festival, and such I hold to be the arrival of the 
 heir of Sir Everard under my roof; and I de- 
 vote this draught to the health and prosperity 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 conclu- 
 sion, 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 Bradwardine. 
 
 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 cour- 
 tesy would be extremely ill received. Eesolving, 
 therefore, to submit to this last piece of tyranny, 
 and then to quit the table if possible, and confid- 
 
THE BANQUET. 87 
 
 ing in the strength of his constitution, he did jus- 
 tice 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, be- 
 gan 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 dig- 
 nitaries had hitherto addressed each other were 
 now familiarly abbreviated into TuUy, Bally, and 
 Killie. When a few roimds 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 produced, 
 and Waverley concluded 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 Killancureit declared 
 their determination to acknowledge their sense of 
 the hospitality of Tully-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. 2 
 
 1 Southey's Madoc. 
 
 2 lITote V. — Stirrup-Cup. 
 
88 WAVERLEY. 
 
 It must be noticed that the Bailie, knowing by 
 experience that the day's jovialty, which had been 
 hitherto sustained at the expense of his patron, 
 might terminate partly at his own, had mounted 
 his spavined gray 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 vil- 
 lage. The others entered the change-house, lead- 
 ing Edward in unresisting submission; for his 
 landlord whispered him that to demur to such an 
 overture would be construed into a high misde- 
 meanour against the leges conviviales, or regulations 
 of genial compotation. Widow Macleary 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 gen- 
 tlemen's houses in Scotland Sixty Years since. 
 The guests thereby at once acquitted themselves 
 of their burden of gratitude for their entertainer's 
 kindness, encouraged the trade of his change- 
 house, did honour to the place which afforded 
 harbour to their horses, and indemnified them- 
 selves for the previous restraints imposed by pri- 
 vate hospitality by spending what Falstaff calls 
 the sweet of the night in the genial license of a 
 tavern. 
 
 Accordingly, in full expectation of these distin- 
 guished 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 BANQUET. 89 
 
 the inequalities of her clay floor, and having, more- 
 over, 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 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 confusion 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 conversation, without the least respect to 
 his neighbour. The Baron of Bradwardine sung 
 French cliansons a loire and spouted pieces of 
 Latin ; Killancureit talked, in a steady, unaltera- 
 ble dull key, of top-dressing and bottom-dressing, ^ 
 and year-olds, and gimmers, and dinmonts, and 
 stots, and runts, and kyloes, and a proposed Turn- 
 pike 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 discipline so 
 far prevailed that for a moment he obtained it, he 
 
 1 This has been censured as an anachronism ; and it must be 
 confessed that agriculture of this kind was unknown to the Scotch 
 Sixty Years since. 
 
90 WAVERLEY. 
 
 hastened to beseech their attention " unto a mili- 
 tary ariette which was a particular favourite of the 
 Mar^chal Due de Berwick ; " then, imitating, as 
 well as he could, the manner and tone of a French 
 mousquetaire, he immediately commenced, — 
 
 Mon coeur volage,dit elle, 
 
 N'est pas pour vous, gargon; 
 Est pour un homme de guerre, 
 
 Qui a barbe au menton. 
 
 Lon, Lon, Laridon. 
 
 Qui port chapeau k plume, 
 
 Soulier k rouge talon. 
 Qui joue de la flute, 
 
 Aussi de violon. 
 
 Lon, Lon, Laridon. 
 
 Balmawhapple could hold no longer, but broke 
 in with what he called a d — d good song, com- 
 posed by Gibby Gaethroughwi't, the piper of 
 Cupar; and without wasting more time, struck 
 up,— 
 
 It 's up Gleubarchan's braes I gaed. 
 And o'er the bent of Killiebraid, 
 And mony a weary cast I made. 
 To ouittle the moor-fowl's tail. "■ 
 
 The Baron, whose voice was drowned in the louder 
 and more obstreperous strains of Balmawhapple, 
 now dropped the competition, but continued to 
 hum " Lon, Lon, Laridon, " and to regard the suc- 
 cessful candidate for the attention of the com- 
 pany with an eye of disdain, while Balmawhapple 
 proceeded, — 
 
 ' Suum cuique. This snatch of a ballad was composed by 
 Andrew MacDonald, the ingenious and unfortunate author of 
 "Vimouda." (m) 
 
THE BANQUET. 91 
 
 If up a bonnie black-cock should spring, 
 To whistle him down wi' a slug in his wing, 
 And strap him on to 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 prosecu- 
 tion of his triumph, declared there was " more sense 
 in that than in all the derry-dongs of France, and ' 
 rifeshire to the boot of it." The Baron only an- 
 swered 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 De- 
 mon 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 Balmawhapple, now superior to the nods 
 and w;inks 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 in- 
 clined to take umbrage at a toast which seemed, 
 from the glance of Balmawhapple 's eye, to have a 
 peculiar and uncivil reference to the government 
 
92 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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,ma,j 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 sacramentum militare, by which every officer is 
 bound to the standards under which he is enrolled ? 
 Look at Titus Livius, what he says of those Eoman 
 soldiers who were so unhappy as exuere sacramen- 
 tum, — to renounce their legionary oath. But you 
 are ignorant, sir, alike of ancient history and mod- 
 ern courtesy. " 
 
 " Not so ignorant as ye would pronounce me, " 
 roared Balmawhapple. " I ken weel that you 
 mean the Solemn League and Covenant; but if a' 
 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 English- 
 man ; " and Waverley at the same moment entreat- 
 ing 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, perad venture, 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 
 this roof, which is quasi mine, being held by tacit 
 relocation by a tenant at will, I am in loco parentis 
 
THE BANQUET. 93 
 
 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 Comyne Brad- 
 wardine, of Bradwardine and TuUy-Veolan, " re- 
 torted the sportsman, in huge disdain, " that I '11 
 make a moor-cock of the man that refuses my 
 toast, whether it be a crop-eared English Whig 
 wi' a black ribbon 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, in- 
 finitely 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 in- 
 fluence 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 happened 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 knock- 
 ing down Balmawhapple. Be that as it may, if 
 readier aid than either his or Waverley's had not 
 interposed, there would certainly have been blood- 
 shed. 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 em- 
 
94 WAVERLEY. 
 
 ployed 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 Killancureit. 
 The latter led off Balmawhapple, cursing, swear- 
 ing, and vowing revenge against every Whig, Pres- 
 byterian, 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. 
 
CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 REPENTANCE AND A EECONCILIATION. 
 
 Waveeley was unaccustomed to the use of wine, 
 excepting with great temperance. He slept there- 
 fore soundly till late in the succeeding morning, 
 and then awakened to a painful recollection of the 
 scene of the preceding evening. He had received 
 a personal affront, — he, a gentleman, a soldier, 
 and a Waverley. True, the person who 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 coun- 
 try ; true, in doing so he might take the life of a 
 young man who perhaps respectably discharged the 
 social duties, and render his family 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 quar- 
 
96 WAVERLEY. 
 
 tered, in order that he might convey such a 
 message to the Laird of Balmawhapple as the cir- 
 cumstances seemed to demand. He found Miss 
 Bradwardine presiding over the tea and coffee, the 
 table loaded with warm bread, both of flour, oat- 
 meal, and barley-meal, in the shape of loaves, 
 cakes, biscuits, and other varieties, together with 
 eggs, reindeer ham, mutton and beef ditto, smoked 
 salmon, marmalade, and all the other delicacies 
 which induced even Johnson himself to extol the 
 luxury of a Scotch breakfast above that of all other 
 countries (o). A mess of oatmeal porridge, flanked 
 by a silver jug, which held an equal mixture of 
 cream and buttermilk, was placed for the Baron's 
 share of this repast; but Eose observed he had 
 walked out early in the morning, after giving or- 
 ders 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 Bradwardine a favourable 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 wondering that a scarlet coat should 
 cover no better breeding, she left him to his men- 
 tal 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 towards the window, he be- 
 held the Baron and young Balmawhapple pass arm 
 in arm, apparently in deep conversation ; and he 
 hastily asked, " Did Mr. Falconer sleep here last 
 night ? " Eose, not much pleased with the abrupt- 
 
REPENTANCE AND A RECONCILIATION. 97 
 
 ness of the first question which the young stranger 
 had addressed to her, answered drily in the nega- 
 tive, and the conversation again sunk into silence. 
 
 At this moment Mr. Saunderson appeared, with 
 a message from his master requesting to speak 
 with Captain Waverley in another apartment. 
 With a heart which beat a little quicker, not in- 
 deed 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, while something 
 like sullenness 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 displeas- 
 ing to you, as serving for the time under this pres- 
 ent 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 
 daTis son tort, as a gallant French chevalier. Mon- 
 sieur Le Bretailleur, once said to me on such an 
 
 VOL. I. — 7 
 
98 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 pedora, as Buchanan saith, — ahold 
 and warlike sept, or people. " 
 
 Edward immediately, and with natural polite- 
 ness, accepted the hand which Balmawhapple, or 
 rather the Baron in his character of mediator, ex- 
 tended towards him. It was impossible, he said, 
 for him to remember what a gentleman expressed 
 his wish he had not uttered; and he willingly 
 imputed what had passed to the exuberant festiv- 
 ity of the day. 
 
 " That is very handsomely said, " answered the 
 Baron ; " for undoubtedly if a man be ebrius, 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 gentle- 
 man, 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 exculpation rele- 
 vant in the case of one who was ebriosus, or an 
 habitual drunkard ; because if such a person choose 
 to pass the greater part of his time in the pre- 
 dicament of intoxication, he hath no title to be 
 exeemed from the obligations of the code of polite- 
 ness, but should learn to deport himself peaceably 
 and courteously when under influence of the vin- 
 ous stimulus. And now let us proceed to break- 
 fast, and think no more of this daft business. " 
 
 I must confess, whatever inference may be drawn 
 from the circumstance, that Edward, after so satis- 
 factory an explanation, did much greater honour 
 to the delicacies of Miss Bradwardine's breakfast- 
 
REPENTANCE AND A RECONCILIATION. 99 
 
 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 embar- 
 rassed 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 the 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 purpose of leaving 
 Tully-Veolan early enough after dinner to gain the 
 stage at which he meant to sleep ; but the un- 
 affected and deep mortification with which the 
 good-natured and affectionate old gentleman heard 
 the proposal, quite deprived him of courage to per- 
 sist 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 1 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 ebrii, or drunken, were, to say the 
 least, ebrioli, — by which the ancients designed 
 those who were fuddled, or, as your English ver- 
 nacular and metaphorical phrase goes, half-seas- 
 over. Not that I would so insinuate respecting 
 you. Captain Waverley, who, like a prudent youth, 
 did rather abstain from potation ; nor can it be 
 
100 WAVERLEY. 
 
 truly said of myself, who, having assisted at the 
 tables of many great generals and mar^chals at 
 their solemn carousals, have the art to carry my 
 wine discreetly, and did not, during the whole 
 evening, as ye must have doubtless observed, ex- 
 ceed 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 incomparably the most drunk of the 
 party, except, perhaps, his antagonist the Laird of 
 Balmawhapple. However, having received the ex- 
 pected, or rather the required, compliment on his 
 sobriety, the Baron proceeded : " No, sir, though I 
 am myself of a strong temperament, I abhor ebri- 
 ety, and detest those who swallow wine gidce 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 in- 
 fluence of Liher Pater; nor would I utterly accede 
 to the objurgation of the younger Plinius in the 
 fourteenth book of his ' Historia Naturalis. ' No, 
 sir, 1 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 
 Bradwardine 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 
 
UEPENTANCE AND A RECONCILIATION. loi 
 
 the dern path with Ban and Buscar. " For until 
 the shooting season commence, I would willingly 
 show you some sport, and we may, God willing, 
 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 veni- 
 son is not equal to that of either the red or fallow 
 deer.i But he will serve to show how my dogs 
 run ; and therefore they shall attend us with David 
 Gellatley. " 
 
 "Waverley expressed his surprise that his friend 
 Davie was capable of such trust; but the Baron 
 gave him to understand that this poor simpleton 
 was lieither fatuous, nee naturaliter idiota, as is ex- 
 pressed in the brieves of furiosity, but simply a 
 crack-brained knave who could execute very well 
 any commission which jumped with his own hu- 
 mour, and made his folly a plea for avoiding every 
 other. " He has made an interest with us, ' ' con- 
 tinued the Baron, " by saving Eose 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 commensurate terms. ' ' 
 
 Miss Bradwardine then gave Waverley to under- 
 stand that this poor simpleton was dotingly fond of 
 music, deeply affected by that which was melan- 
 choly, and transported into extravagant gaiety by 
 light and lively airs. He had in this respect a pro- 
 
 ' The learned in cookery dissent from the Baron of Bradwar- 
 dine, and hold the roe venison dry and indifferent food, unless 
 when dressed in soup and Scotch collops. 
 
102 WAVERLEY. 
 
 digious memory, stored with miscellaneous snatches 
 and fragments of all tunes and songs, which he 
 sometimes applied, with considerable address, as 
 the vehicles of remonstrance, explanation, or sa- 
 tire. Davie was much attached to the few who 
 showed him 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 David 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 ; David Grellat- 
 ley was in good earnest the half-crazed simpleton 
 which he appeared, and was incapable of any con- 
 stant and steady exertion. He had just so much 
 solidity as kept on the windy side of insanity ; so 
 much wild wit as saved him from the imputation 
 of idiocy ; some dexterity in field-sports (in which 
 we have knOwn as great fools excel), great kind- 
 ness and humanity in the treatment of animals 
 intrusted to him, warm affections, a prodigious 
 memory, and an ear for music. 
 
REPENTANCE AND A llECONCILIATION. 103 
 
 The stamping of horses was now heard in the 
 court, and Davie's voice singing to the two large 
 deer greyhounds, — 
 
 Hie away, hie away, 
 Over bank and over brae, 
 Where the copsewood ia the greenest. 
 Where the fountains glisten sheenest, 
 AVhere the lady-fern grows strongest, 
 Where the morning dew lies longest. 
 Where the blackcock sweetest sips it. 
 Where the fairy latest trips it ; 
 Hie to haunts right seldom seen, 
 Lovely, lonesome, cool, and green. 
 Over bank and over brae, 
 Hie away, hie away ! 
 
 " Do the verses he sings," asked Waverley," be- 
 long to old Scottish poetry, Miss Bradwardine ? " 
 
 " I believe not," she replied. " This poor crea- 
 ture had a brother, and Heaven, as if to compen- 
 sate 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 de- 
 cline. 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 affection- 
 ate 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 fragment as he is now singing, 
 he either answers with wild and long fits of laugh- 
 ter, or else breaks into tears of lamentation, but 
 
104 WAVERLEY. 
 
 was never heard to give any explanation, or to 
 mention his brother's name since his death." 
 
 " Surely, " said Edward, who was readily in- 
 terested by a tale bordering on the romantic, 
 " surely more might be learned by more particular 
 inquiry. ' ' 
 
 " Perhaps so, ' ' answered Eose ; " but my father 
 will not permit any one to practise on his feelings 
 on this subject. ' ' 
 
 By this time the Baron, with the help of Mr. 
 Sannderson, 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 huge balustrade as 
 he passed with the but of his massive horsewhip, 
 and humming, with the air of a chasseur of Louis 
 Quatorze, — 
 
 Pour la cliasse ordonnee il faut ijreparer tout, 
 Ho la ho ! Vite ! vite debout. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 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 superbly 
 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 farmyard which 
 they passed in their progress, till, " low down in 
 a grassy vale, " they found David 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 appel- 
 lation 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 TuUy-Veolan ; it was in fashion 
 Sixty Years since, is now, and will be six hundred 
 
io6 WAVERLEY. 
 
 years hence, if this admirable compound of folly 
 and knavery called the world shall be then in 
 existence. 
 
 These " gillie-wet-foots, " ^ as they were called, 
 were destined to beat the bushes, which they per- 
 formed 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 flay- 
 ing and embowelling the slain animal (which, he 
 observed, was called by the French chasseurs, faire 
 la curee) with his own baronial couteau de chasse. 
 After this ceremony he conducted his guest home- 
 ward by a pleasant and circuitous route, command- 
 ing an extensive prospect of different villages and 
 houses, to each of which Mr. Bradwardine attached 
 some anecdote of history or genealogy, told in lan- 
 guage 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 
 
 1 A bare-footed Highland lad is called a " gillie-wet-foot. " 
 Gillie, in general, means servant, or attendant. 
 
A MORE RATIONAL DAY THAN THE LAST. 107 
 
 evening promenade upon the terrace of Tully- 
 Veolan, where for hours together, — the very 
 model of old Hardy knute, — 
 
 Stately stepped he east the \va', 
 And stately stepped he west. 
 
 As for literature, he read the classic poets, to be 
 sure, and the Epithalamium of Georgius Buchanan, 
 and Arthur Johnstone'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 vari- 
 ous 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 Eamsay, the periwig-maker. " ^ 
 
 But although Edward and he differed toto coelo, 
 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 his- 
 tory delineates. Edward, on the contrary, loved 
 
 1 The Baron ought to have remembered that the joyous Allan 
 literally drew his blood from the house of the noble earl whom he 
 terms, — 
 
 Dalhousie of an old descent, 
 
 My stoup, my pride, my ornament. 
 
io8 WAVEEXiEY. 
 
 to fill up and round the sketch with the colour- 
 ing 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 narratives 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 com- 
 municated, 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. Bradwardine, as confirming 
 or illustrating his own favourite anecdotes. Be- 
 sides, Mr. Bradwardine loved to talk of the scenes 
 of his youth, which had been spent in camps and 
 foreign lands, and had many interesting particu- 
 lars to tell of the generals under whom he had 
 served, and the actions he had witnessed. 
 
 Both parties returned to TuUy-Veolan in great 
 good-humour with each other : Waverley desirous 
 of studying more attentively what he considered as 
 a Singular and interesting character, gifted with a 
 memory containing a curious register of ancient 
 and modern anecdotes ; and Bradwardine disposed 
 to regard Edward as 'pv.er (or rather juvenis) bonce 
 spei et magnm indolis, — a youth devoid of that 
 petulant volatility which is impatient of, or vili- 
 pends, the conversation and advice of his seniors, 
 from which he predicted great things of his future 
 success and deportment in life. There was no 
 other guest except Mr. Eubrick, whose information 
 and discourse, as a clergyman and a scholar, har- 
 
A MORE RATIONAL DAY THAN THE LAST. 109 
 
 monized 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 Eose's apartment, or, as he 
 termed it, her " troisifeme dtage. " Waverley was 
 accordingly conducted through one or two of those 
 long, awkward passages with which ancient archi- 
 tects studied to puzzle the inhabitants of the 
 houses which they 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. Eubrick and Waverley to follow at 
 more leisure, while he should announce their ap- 
 proach to his daughter. 
 
 After having climbed this perpendicular cork- 
 screw until their brains were almost giddy, they 
 arrived in a little matted lobby, which served as 
 an ante-room to Eose's sanctum sanctorum, and 
 through which they entered her parlour. It was a 
 small, but pleasant apartment, opening to the 
 south, and hung with tapestry, adorned besides 
 with two pictures, — 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 bestowed 
 on the original. The Baron joined in the laugh. 
 "Truly," he said, "that picture was a woman's 
 fantasy of my good mother's (a daughter of the 
 
no WAVEKLEY. 
 
 Laird of Tulliellum, Captain Waverley; I indi- 
 cated 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 sat for my pourtraicture but once 
 since that was painted, and it was at the special 
 and reiterated request of the Mardchal Duke of 
 Berwick. ' ' 
 
 The good old gentleman did not mention what 
 Mr. Eubrick 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 sup- 
 port reached him. To do the Baron justice, al- 
 though 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 Rose 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 also to be 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 profi- 
 ciency farther than to be able to accompany her 
 voice with the harpsichord, — but even this was 
 not very common in Scotland at that period. To 
 
A MORE RATIONAL DAY THAN THE LAST, iii 
 
 make amends, she sung with great taste and feel- 
 ing, 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 natu- 
 ral 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 per- 
 former in a most shameful manner. It was per- 
 haps owing to this sensibility to poetry, and power 
 of combining its expression with those of the 
 musical notes, that her singing gave more plea- 
 sure to all the unlearned in music, and even to 
 many of the learned, than could have been com- 
 municated by a much finer voice and more bril- 
 liant execution, unguided by the same delicacy of 
 feeling. 
 
 A bartizan, or projecting gallery, before the win- 
 dows of her parlour, served to illustrate another of 
 Eose's pursuits; for it was crowded with flowers of 
 different kinds, which she had taken under her 
 special protection. A projecting turret gave access 
 to this Gothic balcony, which commanded a most 
 beautiful prospect. The formal garden, with its 
 high bounding walls, lay below, contracted, as it 
 seemed, to a mere parterre; while the view ex- 
 tended 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 was here beheld, in all its dignity, frown- 
 ing 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 concealed the others. 
 
112 "WAVERLEY. 
 
 The glen, or dell, was terminated by a sheet of 
 water called Loch Veolan, 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, intro- 
 duced some family anecdotes and tales of Scottish 
 chivalry, which the Baron told with great enthu- 
 siasm. 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. Eubrick mentioned some 
 curious particulars, which reminded Waverley 
 of a rhyme quoted by Edgar in " King Lear ; " {f) 
 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 sprung, 
 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 min- 
 strel could have desired, and which his poetry so 
 much wanted. I almost doubt if it can be read 
 with patience, destitxite of these advantages ; 
 although I conjecture the following copy to 
 have been somewhat corrected by Waverley, to 
 suit the taste of those who might not relish pure 
 antiquity. 
 
A MORE RATIONAL DAY THAN THE LAST. 113 
 
 ST. SWITHIN'S CHAIK. 
 
 On Hallow-mass Eve, ere ye boune ye to rest, 
 Ever beware that your 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. 
 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 ; 
 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 : 
 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 has ceased to flow ; 
 The calm was more dreadful than raging storm, 
 When the cold gray mist brought the ghastly Form ! 
 
 -8 
 
ri4 WAVERLEY, 
 
 " I am sorry , tq disappoint the company, espe- 
 cially 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 tbe wars, and how the lady was 
 found 'clay-cold upon the groun^ill ledge. '" 
 
 "It is one of those figments," observed Mr. 
 Bradwardine, " with which the early history of 
 distinguished families was deformfed in the times 
 of superstition, — as that of Eome, and other an- 
 cient nations, had their prodigies, sir, the which 
 you may 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 Skytte, Baron of Dudershoff. " 
 
 " My father has a strange defiance of the marvel- 
 lous, Captain Waverley, ' ' observed Eose, ' ' and 
 once stood firm when a whole synod of Presby- 
 terian divines were put to the rout by a sudden 
 apparition of the foul fiend. ' ' 
 
 Waverley looked as if desirous to hear more. 
 
 " Must I tell my story as well as sing my song ? 
 Well, once upon a time there lived an old woman, 
 called Janet Gellatley, 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 sparely supplied with food, and not 
 permitted to sleep until she herself became as 
 much persuaded of her being a witch as her. accu- 
 sers ; and in this lucid and happy sta,te of mind 
 was brought forth to make a clean breast, that is, 
 
A MOllE llATIONAL BAY THAN THE LAST. 115 
 
 to make open confession of her sorceries, before 
 all the Whig gentry and ministers in the vicinity, 
 who were no conjurors themselves. My father 
 went to see fair play between the witch and the 
 clergy, for the witch 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 hon- 
 our on ApoUyon's taste, — and while the auditors 
 listened with astonished ears, and the clerk re- 
 corded 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 conse- 
 quences. 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. " 
 
 " Bisu solvuntur tabulm, ' ' said the Baron ; '' when 
 they recovered their panic trepidation, they were 
 too much ashamed to bring any wakening of the 
 process against Janet Gellatley. ' ' ^ 
 
 This anecdote led into a long discussion of — 
 
 ' The story last told was said to have happened in the south of 
 Scotland ; but, cedant arma togee, 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. 
 
"6 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 le- 
 gends which it introduced, closed our hero's second 
 evening in the house of TuUy-Veolan. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A DISCOVERY. — WAVERLEY BECOMES DOMESTI- 
 CATED AT TULLY-VEOLAN. 
 
 The next day Edward arose betimes, and in a 
 morning walk around the 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 recognized Waverley, when, instantly turn- 
 ing his back, as if he had not observed him, he 
 began to sing part of an old ballad : — 
 
 Youug 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 tinder his wing. 
 
 The young man's wrath is like light straw on fiie ; 
 
 Heard ye so merry the little bird sing ? 
 But like red-hot steel is the old man's ire, 
 
 A nd 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 wing. 
 
 Waverley could not avoid observing that Davie 
 laid something like a satirical emphasis on these 
 lines. He therefore approached, and endeavoured, 
 by sundry queries, to elicit from him what the in- 
 
ii8 WAVERLEY. 
 
 nuendo might mean ; but Davie had no mind to 
 explain, and had wit enough to make his folly 
 cloak his knavery. Edward could collect nothing 
 from him excepting that the Laird of Balmawhap- 
 ple had gone home yesterday morning " wi' his 
 boots fu' o' bluid. " In the garden, however, he 
 met the old butler, who no longer attempted to 
 conceal that, having been bred in the nursery line 
 with Sumack & Co. of Newcastle, he sometimes 
 wrought a turn in the flower-borders to oblige the 
 laird and Miss Rose. By a series of queries, Ed- 
 ward at length discovered, with a painful feeling 
 of surprise and shame, that Balmawhapple's sub- 
 mission and apology had been the consequence of 
 a rencontre with the Baron before his guest had 
 quitted his pillow, in which the younger combat- 
 ant had been disarmed and wounded in the sword- 
 arm. 
 
 Greatly mortified at this information, Edward 
 sought out his friendly host, and anxiously expos- 
 tulated with him upon the injustice he had done 
 him in anticipating his meeting with Mr. Fal- 
 coner, — 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 him- 
 self 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 ren- 
 dered the use of the sword unnecessary, and which, 
 being made and accepted, must necessarily sopite 
 the whole affair. 
 
A DISCOVERY. 119 
 
 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 ohserved, 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 dis- 
 position (as might be read in Archibald's Simson, 
 pastor of Dalkeith's " Hieroglyphica Animalium "), 
 and had thus been the type of many quarrels and 
 dissensions which had occurred in the house of 
 Bradwardine ; " of which, " he continued, " I might 
 commemorate mine own unfortunate dissension ^yith 
 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 quasi 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 
 intrusted to the very basest plebeians), but, more- 
 over, seemed to infer that our coat-armour had 
 not been achieved by honourable actions in war, 
 but bestowed by way of paranomasia, or pun, 
 upon our family appellation, — a sort of bearing 
 which the Trench call armoires parlantes, the 
 Latins anna cantantia, and your English authori- 
 ties, 'canting heraldry;' being, indeed, a species 
 of emblazoning more befitting canters, gaberlun- 
 zies, and such like mendicants, whose gibberish is 
 formed upon playing upon the word, than the noble, 
 honourable, and useful science of heraldry, which 
 assigns .armorial bearings as the reward of noble 
 
120 WAVERLEY. 
 
 and generous actions, and not to tickle tlie 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 Tully-Veolan on the first days of 
 Edward's arrival, for the purpose of introducing 
 its inmates to the reader's acquaintance, it be- 
 comes 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 literature, 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 prescribed by her father, al- 
 though it not only comprehended several heavy 
 folios of history, but certain gigantic tomes in 
 High-Church polemics. In heraldry he was fortu- 
 nately contented to give her only such a slight 
 tincture as might be acquired by perusal of the 
 
 1 Although " canting heraldry " is generally reprobated, it 
 seems nevertheless 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 periissem " 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, prevented 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 ui 
 periissem" (I had died, unless I had gone through with it). 
 
; nulling 
 
 "Hiuiner. 
 
 I- tlw 
 
 y 
 
 m 
 
 t- 
 
 It 
 
 • »< 1 r It, 
 
Pwided It ILHepdmaa E^ A. 
 
 WAVERLEY & ROSE. 
 
A DISCOVERY. 121 
 
 two folio volumes of Nisbet. Eose was indeed the 
 very apple of her father's eye. Her constant live- 
 liness, her attention to all those little observances 
 most gratifying to those who would never think of 
 exacting them, her beauty, in which he recalled 
 the features of his beloved wife, her unfeigned 
 piety, and the noble generosity of her disposition, 
 would have justified the affection 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 dowry or a 
 wealthy marriage. By an 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 mat- 
 ters had been too long under the exclusive charge 
 of Bailie Macwheeble to admit of any great ex- 
 pectations from his personal succession. It is true, 
 the said bailie loved his patron and his patron's 
 daughter next (though at an incomparable distance) 
 to himself. He thought it was possible to set aside 
 the settlement on the male line, and had actually pro- 
 cured 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 busi- 
 ness. But the Baron would not listen to such a 
 proposal for an instant. On the contrary, 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 
 
122 WAVERLEY. 
 
 when women were not deemed capable to hold a 
 feudal grant ; because, according to Les coustusmes 
 de Normandie, c'est llwmme ki se bast et lei conseille, 
 or, as is yet more ungallantly expressed by other 
 authorities, all of whose barbarous names he de- 
 lighted to quote at full length, because 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 infirmity of her 
 disposition. He would triumphantly ask how it 
 would become a female, and that female a Brad- 
 wardine, to be seen employed in servitio exuendi, 
 seu detrahendi, ccdigas regis 'post hattaliam ? that is, 
 in pulling off the king's boots after an engagement, 
 which was the feudal service by which he held the 
 barony of Bradwardine. " N'o, " he said, " be- 
 yond hesitation, procul dubio, many females, as 
 worthy as Eose, had been excluded, in order to 
 make way for my own succession, and Heaven for- 
 bid that I should do aught that might contravene 
 the destination of my forefathers, or impinge upon 
 the right of my kinsman, Malcolm Bradwardine of 
 Inchgrabbit, an honourable, 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 in- 
 terior, the laird's self-willedness, and with laying 
 plans for uniting Eose with the young Laird of 
 Balmawhapple, who had a fine estate, only moder- 
 ately burdened, and was a faultless young gentle- 
 man, being as sober as a saint, if you keep brandy 
 
A DISCOVERY. 133 
 
 from him, and him from brandy, and who, in 
 brief, had no imperfection but that of keeping 
 light company at a time, — such as Jinker the 
 horse-couper, and Gibby Gaethroughwi't, the piper 
 0' Cupar; " o' whilk follies, Mr. Saunderson, he '11 
 mend, he '11 mend, " pronounced the bailie. 
 
 " Like sour ale in simmer, " added Davie Gellat- 
 ley, who happened 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 plea- 
 sures 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 florid eloquence which has been 
 supposed as powerful even as figure, fashion, fame, 
 or fortune, in winning the female heart. There 
 was, therefore, an increasing danger, in this con- 
 stant intercourse, to poor Eose's peace of mind, 
 
124 WAYERLEY. 
 
 which was the more imminent as her father was 
 greatly too miich abstracted in his studies, and 
 wrapped 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 Bradwardine that 
 the ■ whole neighbourhood concluded that he had 
 opened them to the advantages of a match between 
 his daughter and the wealthy young Englishman, 
 and pronounced him much less a fool than he had 
 generally shown himsfelf 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 counterbalance the natu- 
 ral susceptibility of his disposition. Besides, Eose 
 Bradwardine, beautiful and amiable as we have 
 described her, had not precisely the sort of beauty 
 or merit which captivates 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 imagination delights to dress the empress of his 
 
A DISCOVERY. 125 
 
 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 ? 
 All these incidents have their fascination on the 
 mind at a certain 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 ideal, 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 
 Eachel'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 sentiments than those of 
 a brother for an amiable and accomplished sister ; 
 while the sentiments of poor Eose were gradually, 
 and without her being conscious,, assuming a shade 
 of warmer affection. 
 
 I ought to have said that Edward, when he sent 
 
126 WAVERLEY. 
 
 to Dundee for the books before mentioned, had 
 applied for and received permission, extending his 
 leave of absence. But the letter of his command- 
 ing officer contained a friendly recommendation to 
 him not to spend his time exclusively with per- 
 sons who, estimable as they might be in a general 
 sense, could not be supposed well affected to a gov- 
 ernment which they declined to acknowledge by 
 taking the oath of allegiance. The letter further 
 insinuated, though with great delicacy, that al- 
 though some family connections might be supposed 
 to render it necessary 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 prolong- 
 ing those attentions into exclusive intimacy. And 
 it was intimated that while his political principles 
 were endangered by communicating 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 Wa- 
 verley to set both down to the prejudices of his 
 commanding officer. He was sensible that Mr. 
 Bradwardine had acted with the most scrupulous 
 delicacy in never entering upon any discussion 
 that had the most remote tendency to bias his 
 mind in political opinions, although he was him- 
 self not only a decided partisan of the exiled fam- 
 ily, but had been trusted at different times with 
 important commissions for their service. Sensible, 
 therefore, that there was no risk of his being per- 
 verted from his allegiance, Edward felt as if he 
 should do his uncle's old friend injustice in re- 
 
A DISCOVERY. 127 
 
 moving from a house where he gave and received 
 pleasure and amusement, merely to gratify a preju- 
 diced and ill-judged suspicion. He therefore wrote 
 a very general answer, assuring his commanding 
 officer that his loyalty was not in the most dis- 
 tant danger of contamination, and continued an 
 honoured guest and inmate of the house of Tully- 
 Veolan. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A CEEAGH,^ AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 
 
 When Edward had been a guest at Tully-Veolan 
 nearly six weeks, lie descried, one morning 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 ges- 
 tures, and uttering loud exclamations of surprise, 
 grief, and resentment. Erom their appearance, a 
 pagan might have conceived them a detachment of 
 the celebrated Belides {q), just come from their 
 baleing penance. As nothing was to be got from 
 this distracted chorus, excepting " Lord guide us ! " 
 and " Eh, sirs ! " ejaculations 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 sum- 
 mons, 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 
 
 1 A creagh was an incursion for plunder, termed on the Bor. 
 ders a " raid." 
 
A CREAGH AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 129 
 
 forth Mr. Saunderson, who appeared with a coun- 
 tenance in which dismay was mingled with so- 
 lemnity, and they immediately entered ' into close 
 conference. Davie Gellatley was also seen in the 
 group, idle as Diogenes at Sinope while his coun- 
 trymen were preparing for a siege. His spirits 
 always rose with anything, good or bad, which 
 occasioned tumult, and he continued frisking, hop- 
 ping, dancing, and singing the burden of an old 
 ballad, — 
 
 " Our gear's a' gane," 
 
 until, happening to pass too near the bailie, he re- 
 ceived an admonitory hint from his horse-whip, 
 which converted his songs into lamentation. 
 
 Passing from thence towards the garden, Wa- 
 verley beheld the Baron in person, measuring and 
 re-measuring, with swift and tremendous strides, 
 the length of the terrace, his countenance clouded 
 with offended pride and indignation, and the whole 
 of his demeanour such as seemed to indicate that 
 any inquiry concerning the cause of his discompo- 
 sure would give pain at least, if not offence. Wa- 
 verley therefore glided into the house without 
 addressing him, and took his way to the breakfast- 
 parlour, where he found his young friend Eose, 
 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 ex- 
 plained 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 ?" 
 
 VOL. I. — 9 
 
I30 WAVERLEY. 
 
 " Yes, — robbers from the neighbouring High- 
 lands. We used to be quite free from them while 
 we paid blackmail 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 
 ourselves 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 Eose lost 
 heart altogether, 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 Wa- 
 verley, 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 sornars,i 
 while we are not allowed to keep half a score of 
 muskets, whether for defence or rescue. " 
 
 Bailie Macwheeble entered immediately after- 
 wards, and by his report of arms and ammunition 
 
 1 " Sornars " may be translated sturdy beggars, more especially 
 indicating those unwelcome visitors who exact lodgings and vic- 
 tuals by force, or something approaching to it. 
 
A CREAGH AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 131 
 
 confirmed this statement, informing tlie 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 country. 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 Wa- 
 verley, my grandsire, " he said, " with two hundred 
 horse, whom he levied within his own bounds, 
 discomfited and put to the rout more than five 
 hundred of these Highland reivers, who have been 
 ever lapis offensionis, et petra scandali, a stumbling- 
 block and a rock of offence to the Lowland vici- 
 nage, — 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 six- 
 teen 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 company, as is usual in cases of difficulty, 
 began to give separate and inconsistent counsel. 
 
133 WAVERLEY. 
 
 Alexander ab Alexandre 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 trans- 
 action would amount to theft-boot, or composition 
 of felony; and he recommended that some canny 
 Kami 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 transac- 
 tion. Edward proposed to send off to the nearest 
 garrison for a party of soldiers and a magistrate's 
 warrant; and Eose, as far as she dared, endeav- 
 oured to insinuate the course of paying the arrears 
 of tribute money to Fergus Mac-Ivor Vich Ian Vohr, 
 who, they all knew, could easily procure restora- 
 tion of the cattle, if he were properly propitiated. 
 
 None of these proposals met the Baron's appro- 
 bation. The idea of composition, direct or implied, 
 was absolutely ignominious ; that of Waverley only 
 showed that he did not understand 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 procure 
 restitution in integrum of every 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 pro- 
 posed to send expresses to Balmawhapple, Killan- 
 cureit, 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.' " 
 
A CKEAGH AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 133 
 
 The bailie, who by no means relished these war- 
 like 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 
 Ballybrough 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 in- 
 deed possible to trace them. 
 
 This proposition was undeniable. The council 
 therefore broke up without coming to any conclu- 
 sion, as has occurred to councils of more impor- 
 tance; only it was determined 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 tenfold. 
 
 The Baron having also retired to give some 
 necessary directions, Waverley seized the oppor- 
 tunity to ask whether this Fergus, with the unpro- 
 nounceable name, was the chief thief-taker of the 
 district ? 
 
 " Thief-taker ! " answered Eose, laughing, " he 
 is a gentleman of great honour and consequence, 
 .the chieftain of an independent branch of a power- 
 ful 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 ? 
 
134 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 Eose ; " 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 blackmail to Vich Ian Vohr. " 
 
 " And what is blackmail ? " 
 
 " 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 re- 
 cover 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 Eose, " that the quarrel be- 
 tween my father and Fergus Mac-Ivor began at a 
 county meeting, where he wanted to take prece- 
 dence 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 blackmail 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 
 
A CREAGH AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 13^ 
 
 gray 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 1 " 
 
 " No, that is not his name ; and he would con- 
 sider master as a sort of affront, only that you are 
 an Englishman, and know no better. But the 
 Lowlanders call him, like other gentlemen, by the 
 name of his estate, Glennaquoich ; and the High- 
 landers call him Vich Ian Vohr, — that is, the son 
 of John the Great; and we upon the braes here 
 call him by both names indifferently. " 
 
 " I am afraid I shall never bring my English 
 tongue to call him by either one or other. " 
 
 " But he is a very polite, handsome man, " con- 
 tinued Eose, " and his sister Flora is one of the 
 most beautiful and accomplished 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 influ- 
 ence with my father to make matters up. I am 
 sure this is but the beginning of our troubles ; for 
 Tully-Veolan has never been a safe or quiet resi- 
 dence when we have been at feud with the High- 
 landers. 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 
 windows, 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 car- 
 
136 AVAVEELEY. 
 
 riecl away the dead bodies, with the pipes playing 
 before them. I could not sleep for six weeks with- 
 out 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 garri- 
 son at Stirling, with a warrant from the Lord Jus- 
 tice Clerk, or some such great man, and took away 
 all our arms ; and now, how are we to protect our- 
 selves if they come down in any strength ? " 
 
 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 inter- 
 est. He might have said, with Malvolio, " ' I do 
 not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me ! ' 
 I am actually in the land of military and romantic 
 adventures, and it ouly remains to be seen what 
 will be my own share in them. " 
 
 The whole circumstances now detailed concern- 
 ing the state of the country, seemed equally novel 
 and extraordinary. He had indeed often heard of 
 Highland thieves, but had no idea of the syste- 
 matic mode in which their depredations were con- 
 ducted, and that the practice was connived at, and 
 even encouraged, by many of the Highland chief- 
 tains, 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 
 
ACREAGH AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 137 
 
 maintaining a wholesome terror among their Low- 
 land neighbours, 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 gentleman's conversation was so formed 
 upon his professional practice that Davie Gellatley 
 once said his discourse was like a " charge of horn- 
 ing. " He assured our hero that " from the maist 
 ancient times of record, the lawless thieves, lim- 
 mers, and broken men of the Highlands had been 
 in fellowship together by reason of their surnames, 
 for the committing of divers thefts, reifs, and her- 
 ships 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 Stat- 
 ute Book, both by the act one thousand five hun- 
 dred and sixty-seven, and varioiis others; the 
 whilk statutes, with all that had followed and 
 might follow thereupon, were shamefully broken 
 and vilipended by the said sornars, limmers, and 
 broken men, associated into fellowships, for the 
 aforesaid purposes of theft, stouthreef, fire-raising, 
 murther, raptus mulierum, or forcible abduction of 
 women, and such like as aforesaid. " 
 
 It seemed like a dream to Waverley that these 
 deeds of violence should be familiar to men's 
 minds, and currently talked of, as falling within 
 the common order of things, and happening daily 
 
138 WAVERLEY. 
 
 in the immediate vicinity, without his having 
 crossed the seas, and while he was yet in the 
 otherwise well-ordered island of Great Britain.^ 
 
 1 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, — 
 
 HsB tibi erunt artes ; pacisque imponere morem, 
 Parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos. 
 
 Indeed, the levying of blackmail was, before the 1745, practised 
 by several chiefs of very high rank, who in doing so contended 
 that they were lending the laws the assistance of their arms and 
 swords, and affording a protection which could not he 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, hearing a 
 clergyman hold forth to his congregation on the crime of theft, 
 interrupted the preacher to assure him he might leave the enforce- 
 ment of such doctrines to Cluny Mac-Pherson, whose broadsword 
 would put a stop to theft sooner than all the sermons of all the 
 ministers of the Synod. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED ALLY APPEAKS. 
 
 The Baron returned at the dinner-hour, and had 
 in a great measure recovered his composure and 
 good-humour. He not only confirmed the sto- 
 ries which Edward had heard from Eose 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 Seanna- 
 chies, or Bhairds, as sequiponderate with the evi- 
 dence of ancient characters and royal grants of 
 antiquity, conferred upon distinguished houses in 
 the Low Country by divers Scottish monarch s ; 
 nevertheless, such was their outreciiidance 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 
 
140 WAVERLEY. 
 
 habits of this patriarchal race that Edward's curi- 
 osity became highly interested, and he inquired 
 whether it was possible to make with safety an 
 excursion into the neighbouring Highlands, whose 
 dusky barrier of mountains had already excited his 
 wish to penetrate beyond them. The Baron as- 
 sured 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 dis- 
 tinguished 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. Brad- 
 wardine nor Eose exhibited any emotion, Edward 
 would certainly have thought the intrusion hos- 
 tile. As it was, he 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 
 
AN UNEXPECTED ALLY APPEARS. 141 
 
 bonnet, and the Baron, who well knew their cus- 
 toms, 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 am- 
 bassador, in good English, " greets you well, Baron 
 of Bradwardine and Tully-Veolan, and is sorry 
 there has been a thick cloud interposed between 
 you and him, which tias kept you from seeing and 
 considering the friendship and alliances that have 
 been between your houses and forebears of old; 
 and he prays you that the cloud may pass away, 
 and that things may be as they have been hereto- 
 fore 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 hill to the valley, or rose from the valley 
 to the hill; for they never struck with the scab- 
 bard 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 
 
142 WAVERLEY. 
 
 solemnized, the Baron ordered a stoup of usque- 
 baugh, and, filling a glass, drank to the health 
 and prosperity of Mac-Ivor of Glennaquoich ; upon 
 which the Celtic ambassador, to requite his polite- 
 ness, 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 necessary 
 to trouble the Baron. These probably referred to 
 the discontinuance of the subsidy, and apparently 
 the bailie found means to satisfy their ally, with- 
 out suffering his master to suppose that his dignity 
 was compromised. At least, it is certain that after 
 the plenipotentiaries had drunk a bottle of brandy 
 in single drams, which seemed to have no more 
 effect upon such seasoned vessels than if it had 
 been poured upon the two bears at the top of the 
 avenue, Evan Dhu Maccombich, having possessed 
 himself of all the information which he could 
 procure respecting the robbery of the preceding 
 night, declared his intention to set off immediately 
 in pursuit of the cattle, which he pronounced to 
 be " no that far off ; 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 perquisitions, was much struck with the in- 
 genuity which he displayed in collecting infor- 
 mation, and the precise and pointed conclusions 
 which he drew from it. Evan Dhu, on his part, 
 was obviously flattered with the attention of Wa- 
 verley, the interest he seemed to take in his in- 
 
AN UNEXPECTED ALLY APPEARS. 143 
 
 quiries, and his curiosity about the customs and 
 scenery of the Highlands. Without much cere- 
 mony, he invited Edward to accompany him on a 
 short walk of ten or fifteen miles into the moun- 
 tains, 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 with me or the like of me. " 
 
 Our hero, feeling his curiosity considerably ex- 
 cited 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 account 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 chief- 
 tain's house in returning, where he would be sure 
 of good accommodation and an excellent welcome, 
 there seemed nothing very formidable in the task 
 he undertook. Eose, indeed, turned pale when 
 she heard of it; but her father, who loved the 
 spirited curiosity of his young friend, did not at- 
 tempt 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 game- 
 keeper aforesaid and by two wild Highlanders, the 
 attendants of Evan, one of whom had upon his 
 shoulder a hatchet at the end of a pole, called a 
 Lochaber-axe,i and the other a long ducking-gun. 
 
 1 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 
 
144 WAVERLEY. ' 
 
 Evan, upon Edward's inquiry, gave him to under- 
 stand that this martial escort was by no means 
 necessary as a guard, hut merely, as he said, draw- 
 ing up and adjusting his plaid with an air of 
 dignity, that he might appear decently at Tully- 
 Veolan, and as Vich Ian Vohr's foster-brother 
 ought to do. " Ah ! " said he, " if you Saxon 
 duinM-wassel [English gentleman] 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 chief's retinue, — " there is his hanch- 
 man, or right-hand man; then his b^rd, or poet; 
 then his bladier, 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-casfliucli, who carries him 
 on his back through the sikes and brooks ; then 
 his gilly-comstrian, to lead his horse by the bridle 
 in steep and difficult paths; then his gilly-trush- 
 Jiarnish, 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. 
 
 them to climb over walls, fixing the hook upon it, and raising 
 themselves by the handle. The axe, which was also much used 
 by the natives, is supposed to have been introduced into both 
 countries from Scandinavia. 
 
AN UNEXPECTED ALLY APPEARS. 145 
 
 " All these ? " replied Evan. " Ay, and many a 
 fair head besides, that would not ken where to lay 
 itself, but for the mickle barn at Glennaquoich. " 
 
 With similar tales of the grandeur 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 be- 
 tween the high and low country. The path, which 
 was extremely steep and rugged, winded up a chasm 
 between two tremendous rocks, following the pas- 
 sage which a foaming stream, that brawled far be- 
 low, 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 gran- 
 ite 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 al- 
 most 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 hundred 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 burn ; 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 Eng- 
 
 VOL. I. — 10 
 
145 WAVERLEY. 
 
 land, — he is going to fetch his supper from the 
 Laird of Bradwardine 's braes, but I '11 send a slug 
 after him. " 
 
 He fired his piece accordingly, but missed the 
 superb monarcli of the featlaered tribes, who, with- 
 out 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 re- 
 port of the gun, and mingled their hoarse and dis- 
 cordant 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 whistling part 
 of a pibroch as he reloaded his piece, and pro- 
 ceeded in silence up the pass. 
 
 It issued in a narrow glen between two moun- 
 tains, both very lofty and covered with heath. 
 The brook continued to be their companion, and 
 they advanced up its mazes, crossing them now 
 and then, 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 show- 
 ing that he did not fear wetting his feet. Indeed, 
 he was anxious, so far as he could without affecta- 
 tion, 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 diffi- 
 
AN UNEXPECTED ALLY APPEARS. 147 
 
 culty and some danger, by tracks which no one but 
 a Highlander could have followed. The path it- 
 self, 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 un- 
 sound. Sometimes the ground was so completely 
 unsafe that it was necessary to spring from one 
 hillock to another, the space between being incap- 
 able of bearing the human weight. This was an 
 easy matter to the Highlanders, 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 Ser- 
 bonian bog, but deserted them almost totally at 
 the bottom of a steep and very stony hill which it 
 was the travellers' next toilsome task to ascend. 
 The night, however, was pleasant, and not dark; 
 and Waverley, calling up mental energy to sup- 
 port personal fatigue, held on his march gallantly, 
 though envying in his heart his Highland attend- 
 ants, who continued, without a symptom of abated 
 vigour, the rapid and swinging pace, or rather trot, 
 which, according to his computation, 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 attend- 
 ants, 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 other mountaineer in a direction 
 different from that of the three remaining travel- 
 lers. On asking the meaning of this separation. 
 
148 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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, 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 sol- 
 dier) might otherwise 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 conse- 
 quently the path was altogether indiscernible in 
 the murky darkness which surrounded them. The 
 Highlander, however, seemed to trace it by in- 
 stinct, 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 ? 
 
 " 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 
 
AN UNEXPECTED ALLY APPEARS. 149 
 
 cart, or chaise ; and no more could be got from the 
 man with the battle-axe but a repetition of " Aich 
 ay ! ta currayh. " 
 
 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 understand 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 exquisitely fragrant. 
 
 He had now time to give himself up to the full 
 romance of his situation. Here he sat 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 out- 
 law, a second Eobin Hood, perhaps, or Adam 0' 
 Gordon, and that at deep midnight, through scenes 
 of difficulty and toil, separated from his attendant, 
 left by his guide. What a variety of incidents 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 milch cows! This de- 
 grading incident he kept in the background. 
 
 While wrapped in these dreams of imagination, 
 
 ^ It is not the weeping-birch, the most common species in the 
 Highlands, but the woolly-leaved Lowland birch, that is dis- 
 tinguished by this fragrance. 
 
ISO WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 hori- 
 zon. While Edward watched this phenomenon, 
 the distant dash of oars was heard. The measured 
 sound approached near and more near, and pres- 
 ently a loud whistle was heard in the same direc- 
 tion. His friend with the battle-axe immediately 
 whistled clear and shrill, in reply to the signal, 
 and a boat, manned with four or five Highlanders, 
 pushed for a little inlet near which Edward was 
 sitting. He advanced to meet them with his at- 
 tendant, was immediately assisted into the boat by 
 the officious attention of two stout mountaineers, 
 and had no sooner seated himself than they re- 
 sumed their oars, and began to row across the lake 
 with great rapidity. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE HOLD OF A HIGHLAND KOBBEK. 
 
 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 steers- 
 man, and by the dash of the oars, which the notes 
 seemed to regulate, 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 mainland, 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 ap- 
 proached 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 
 reilection 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. 
 
152 WAVERLEY. 
 
 was kindled in the jaws of a lofty cavern, into 
 which an inlet from the lake seemed to advance ; 
 and he conjectured — 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 natu- 
 ral steps. At this moment a quantity of water 
 was suddenly flung upon the fire, which sunk 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 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. 
 
 The 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 unpleasant odour. 
 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 " 
 
THE HOLD OF A HIGHLAND ROBBER. 153 
 
 (or pantry), there hung by the heels the carcases 
 of a sheep or ewe, and two cows lately slaughtered. 
 The principal inhabitant of this singular mansion, 
 attended by Evan Dhu 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 fol- 
 lowed, the wilderness in which he dwelt, the wild 
 warrior forms that surrounded him, were all calcu- 
 lated to inspire terror. From such accompani- 
 ments, Waverley prepared himself to meet a stern, 
 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-proportioned, and active, he appeared, 
 on the whole, rather a diminutive and insignifi- 
 cant figure. He had served in some inferior capa- 
 city in the French army, and in order to receive his 
 English visitor in great form, and probably mean- 
 ing, 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 uniform and a feathered 
 hat, in which he was far from showing to advan- 
 tage, and indeed looked so incongruous, compared 
 with all around him, that Waverley would have 
 been tempted to laugh, had laughter been either 
 civil or safe. The robber received Captain Waver- 
 ley with a profusion of French politeness and 
 Scottish hospitality, seemed perfectly to know his 
 1 Note VI. — Rob Roy. 
 
IS4 WAVERLEY. 
 
 name and connections, and to be particularly ac- 
 quainted with his uncle's political principles. On 
 these he bestowed great applause, to which Waver- 
 ley 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 ren- 
 dered oppressive, a strapping Highland damsel 
 placed before Waverley, Evan, and Donald Bean 
 three cogues or wooden vessels composed of staves 
 and hoops, containing eanaridch,^ 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 hunger rendered palata- 
 ble, 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 
 Highlanders. He was ignorant that this absti- 
 nence was with the lower ranks wholly compul- 
 sory, 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 abundance 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 oiFer him no wine. " Had he but known 
 four-and-twenty hours before, he would have had 
 
 1 This was the regale presented by Rob Roy to the Laird of 
 Tullibody. 
 
THE HOLD OF A HIGHLAND llOBBER. 155 
 
 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 an- 
 other than to offer him 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 the death 
 of an aged man, Donnacha an Amrigh, 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 or 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 Shemus Beg, the 
 blind harper, with his dog. Another time he ad- 
 vertised 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 horned 
 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 regiments 
 quartered north of the Tay. He even mentioned 
 the exact number of recruits who had joined Wa- 
 verley'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 
 
IS6 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 
 himself up in his plaid to take some repose, 
 Donald asked Edward, in a very significant man- 
 ner, 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 ; I am as much worthy 
 of trust as either the Baron of Bradwardine or 
 Vich Ian Vohr. But you are equally welcome to 
 my house. " 
 
 Waverley felt an involuntary shudder creep over 
 him at the mysterious language held by this out- 
 lawed 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 mus- 
 tered, 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 as his lieu- 
 tenant, and seemed to keep watch during his repose. 
 Those who entered, seemed to have returned from 
 some excursion, of which they reported the sue- 
 
THE HOLD OP A HIGHLAND ROBBEB,. 157 
 
 cess, and went without further ceremony to the 
 larder, where, cutting with their dirks their ra- 
 tions from the carcases which were there sus- 
 pended, 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 lieutenant, or the strapping 
 Highland girl aforesaid, who was the only female 
 that appeared. The allowance of whisky, how- 
 ever, 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 bane- 
 ful 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 
 sun was high on the lake without, though there 
 was but a faint and glimmering twilight in the 
 recesses of Uaimh an Ei, or the King's Cavern, 
 as the abode of Donald Bean Lean was proudly 
 denominated. 
 
CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 WAVEKLEY PEOCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY. 
 
 When Edward had collected his scattered recollec- 
 tion, he was surprised to observe the cavern totally 
 deserted. Having arisen and put his dress in 
 some order, he looked more accurately round him ; 
 but all was still solitary. If it had not been for 
 the decayed brands of the fire, now sunk into gray 
 ashes, and the remnants of the festival, consisting 
 of bones half burned 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 accessible 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 skift' 
 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 farther 
 progress 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 
 
WAVEllLEY PllOCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY. 159 
 
 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, de- 
 scending with some difficulty on the other side, 
 he gained the wild aijd 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 
 farther passage by the shores of the lake in that 
 direction. There- could be no possibility, 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 
 attendant, 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. Accordingly, at the distance of about half 
 a mile, he beheld a Highlander (Evan apparently) 
 angling in the lake, with another attending him, 
 whom, from the weapon which he shouldered, he 
 recognized for his friend with the battle-axe. 
 
i6o WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 
 honeycomb. The poor girl had already made a 
 circuit of four miles that morning in search of the 
 eggs, of the 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 ani- 
 mals which they drove away from the Lowlands ; 
 bread itself was a delicacy seldom thought of, be- 
 cause 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 afford, she had secured time also to arrange 
 her own person in her best trim. Her finery was 
 very simple. A short russet-coloured 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 mentioning a pair of gold 
 
WAVERLEY PROCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY. i6i 
 
 ear-rings and a golden rosary, which her father 
 (for she was the daughter of Donald Bean Lean) 
 had brought from Trance, — the plunder, probably, 
 of some battle or storm. 
 
 Her form, though rather large for her years, was 
 very 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 express, might have 
 been interpreted by a coxcomb, or perhaps by a 
 young soldier, who, without being such, was con- 
 scious 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 moun- 
 taineer would have welcomed any staid old gentle- 
 man advanced 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 her- 
 self demurely upon a stone at a few yards ' distance, 
 and 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 
 
 VOL. I. — II 
 
i62 WAVERLEY. 
 
 employed at the breakfast-table. After morning 
 greetings had passed on both sides, and Evan, look- 
 ing 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 should 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, observ- 
 ing 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 sim- 
 plicity, 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 bas- 
 ket, 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 
 
WAVEELEY PROCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY. 163 
 
 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 of the morning breeze, 
 hoisted a clumsy sort of sail, while Evan assumed 
 the 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. Ed- 
 ward assented to her praises so far as he under- 
 stood 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 ! ISTo 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 cottar, 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 
 
i64 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 appropriation ? " 
 
 " To be sure he would 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 
 strappeid up on the kind gallows of Crieff, ^ where 
 his father died, and his goodsire died, and where 
 I hope he '11 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 deti of 
 his, like a mangy tyke ? " 
 
 " But what becomes of Alice, then ? " 
 
 " 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, Evan, what has your father-in-law 
 (that shall be, if he have the good fortune to be 
 hanged) done with the Baron's cattle?" 
 
 " 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 Tully-Veolan, all 
 but two, that were unhappily slaughtered before I 
 got last night to Uaimh an Ei. " 
 
 " 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 
 1 Note VII. — Kind Gallows of CriefE. 
 
WAVERLEY PROCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY. 165 
 
 ain house of Glennaquoich ? Ye would not think 
 to be in his country without ganging to see him ? 
 It would 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 
 concealment, — 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 delight- 
 ful 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 re- 
 newed his questions about their host of the cavern. 
 
 " Does he always reside in that cave ? " 
 
 " 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, " an- 
 swered 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 
 
i66 WAVERLEY. 
 
 ' 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 men 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 Ki, headed by mysell or ony other 
 pretty man. " 
 
 " But suppose a strong party came against him 
 from the Low Country, would not your chief de- 
 fend him ? " 
 
 " 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 
 Eannoch. " 
 
 " Well, but if they followed him to Eannoch ? " 
 
 " 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 Bhu. " 
 
 " 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 High- 
 lands. Vich Ian iVohr commanded one of them 
 for five years, and I was sergeant myself, I shall 
 warrant ye. They call them Sidier Bhu, because 
 they wear the tartans, as they call your men — 
 King George's men — Sidier Roy, or red soldiers." 
 
 "Well, but when you were in King George's 
 
WAVERLEY proceeds on his journey. 167 
 
 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 0' them it is. At ony rate, 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 
 way ? " 
 
 " Troth, he 's nae nice body, and he '11 just tak 
 ony thing, but most readily cattle, horse, or live 
 Christians ; for sheep are slow of travel, and inside 
 plenishing is cumbrous to carry, and not easy to 
 put away for siller in this country. " 
 
 " But does he carry off men and women ? " 
 
 " Out, ay. Did not ye hear him speak 0' the 
 Perth bailie? It cost that body five hundred 
 merks ere he got to the south of Bally-Brough. 
 And ance Donald played a pretty sport. ^ There 
 was to be a blithe bridal between the Lady Cram- 
 feezer, in the howe 0' the Mearns (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 movables, like a gentleman, 
 at cock-matches, bull-baitings, horse-races, and the 
 like. ISTow, 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 dovering hame (wi' the malt rather 
 ' Note VIII. — Cateraus. 
 
1 58 WAVERLEY. 
 
 abune the meal), and with the help oi his gilTies 
 he gat him into the hills with the speed of light, 
 and the first place he wakened in was the cove of 
 Uaimh an Ei. So there was old to do about ran- 
 soming the bridegroom; for Donald would not 
 lower a farthing of a thousand 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 northward, 
 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 Christendom, let alane the 
 Mearns, for that it would prejudice the country. 
 And in the meanwhile ye '11 no hinder Gillie- 
 whackit 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. How- 
 ever, 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 ony thing they would like to gie him 
 for the plague and trouble which he had about 
 
WATERLEY PROCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY. 169 
 
 Gillie whackit to an unkenn'd degree. And I can- 
 not tell you 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 meikle 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 amusement 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 Scot- 
 tish liberality in computing 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 computation of their money, was readily an- 
 swered by Evan, with the old jest, " The deil take 
 them wha have the least pint stoup. " ^ 
 
 And now the report of a gun 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 ? " 
 
 1 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 pound is only twenty pence. 
 
ijo WAYEULEY. 
 
 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 
 hut Galium Beg. " 
 
 In fact, Fergus Mac-Ivor, of whom a Frenchman 
 might have said as truly as of any man in the 
 Highlands, " qu'il connoit bien sesgens, " 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 occa- 
 sion. He was well aware that such an unneces- 
 sary attendance would seem to Edward rather 
 ludicrous than respectable ; and while few men 
 were more attached to ideas of chieftainship and 
 feudal power, he was, for that very reason, cau- 
 tious 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 unction, he judged it more respect- 
 able to advance to meet Waverley with a single 
 attendant, — a very handsome Highland boy, who 
 carried his master's shooting-pouch and his broad- 
 sword, 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 
 trousers, made of tartan, checked scarlet and 
 white ; in other particulars, his dress strictly re- 
 
WAVERLEY PROCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY. 171 
 
 sembled 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 unknown, the 
 broods of grouse were yet too young for the sports- 
 man. His countenance was decidedly Scottish, 
 with all the peculiarities of the northern physiog- 
 nomy, 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 physiogno- 
 mist would have been less satisfied with the coun- 
 tenance on the second than on the first view. The 
 eyebrow and upper lip bespoke something of the 
 habit of peremptory command and decisive supe- 
 riority. Even his courtesy, though open, frank, 
 and unconstrained, seemed to indicate a sense of 
 personal importance; and upon any check or ac- 
 cidental excitation, a sudden, though transient, 
 lower of the ' eye showed a hasty, haughty, and 
 vindictive temper, not less to be dreaded because 
 it seemed much under its owner's command. In 
 short, the countenance of the chieftain resembled 
 a smiling summer's day, in which, notwithstand- 
 
172 WAVERLEY. 
 
 ing, 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 Bradwardine, 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 immediate 
 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 Galium 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 commence- 
 ment of a new chapter. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE CHIEI' AND HIS MANSION. 
 
 The ingenious licentiate Francisco de Ubeda, when 
 he commenced 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 affec- 
 tionate 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 indifferently, and 
 being, of course, " to one thing constant never. " 
 Now I protest to thee, gentle reader, that I en- 
 tirely 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 quill 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 there- 
 fore, like Dogberry, we must spare no wisdom. 
 
 The ancestor of Fergus Mac-Ivor, about three 
 centuries before, had set up a claim to be recog- 
 
174 WAVEELEY. 
 
 nized as chief of the numerous and powerful clan 
 to which he belonged, the name of which it is un- 
 necessary to mention. Being defeated by an oppo- 
 nent 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 adven- 
 turer — united himself with those who were com- 
 missioned 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 after- 
 wards resided. He followed the king also in war 
 to the fertile regions of England, where he em- 
 ployed his leisure hours 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 distinguished, both 
 in song and genealogy, by the high title of " Ian 
 nan Chaistel, " or John of the Tower. The de- 
 scendants of this worthy were so proud of him that 
 the reigning chief always bore the patronymic title 
 of Vich Ian Vohr, — that is, 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 direct de- 
 scent from John of the Tower — engaged heart and 
 hand in the insurrection of 171 5, and was forced 
 to fly to France after the attempt of that year in 
 
THE CHIEF AND HIS MANSION. 175 
 
 favour of the Stewarts 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 repurchased 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 un- 
 common acuteness, fire, and anibition, which, as 
 he became acquainted with the state of the coun- 
 try, 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 Cas- 
 trucani himself. He applied himself with great 
 earnestness to appease all the feuds and dissen- 
 sions which often arose among other clans in his 
 neighbourhood, so that he became a frequent umpire 
 
 1 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 whole 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 impediments in 
 the way of intending purchasers of such property. 
 
176 WAVERLEY. 
 
 in their quarrels. His own patriarclial power he 
 strengthened at every expense which his fortune 
 would permit, and indeed stretched his means to 
 the uttermost to maintain the rude and plenti- 
 ful hospitality which was the most valued attri- 
 bute 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 outnum- 
 bering what the soil was calculated to maintain. 
 These consisted chiefly of his own clan, not one 
 of whom he suffered to quit his lands if he could 
 possibly prevent it. But he maintained, besides, 
 many adventurers from the mother sept, who de- 
 serted a less warlike though more wealthy chief 
 to do homage to Fergus Mac-Ivor. Other individ- 
 uals, too, who had not even that apology, were 
 nevertheless received into his allegiance, which 
 indeed was refused to none 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 mili- 
 tary discipline. In his campaigns against the 
 banditti, it was observed that he assumed and ex- 
 ercised to the utmost the discretionary power, 
 which, while the law had no free course in the 
 Highlands, was conceived to belong to the mili- 
 tary parties who were called in to support it. He 
 
THE CHIEr AND HIS MANSION. 177 
 
 acted, for example, with great and suspicious len- 
 ity to those freebooters 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 of&cers of justice, mili- 
 tary parties, or others, presumed 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 occa- 
 sions Fergus Mac-Ivor was the first to condole 
 with them, and, after gently blaming their rash- 
 ness, never failed deeply to lament the lawless 
 state of the country. 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 appear- 
 ance of discontent ; but in a short time the neigh- 
 bouring country began to feel bad effects from his 
 disgrace. Donald Bean Lean, and others of his 
 class, whose depredations had hitherto been con- 
 fined to other districts, appeared from thencefor- 
 ward 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 blackmail with 
 Fergus Mac-Ivor, which not only established him 
 their protector and gave him great weight in all 
 their consultations, but, moreover, supplied funds 
 1 Note IX. — Highland Policy. 
 
 VOL. I. — 12. 
 
178 WAVERLEY. 
 
 for the waste of his feudal hospitality, which the 
 discontinuance of his pay might have otherwise 
 essentially diminished. 
 
 In following this course of conduct, Fergus had 
 a further 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 res- 
 toration 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 
 themselves, and augmented his own force to the 
 utmost, to be prepared for the first favourable op- 
 portunity of rising. With this purpose also he 
 conciliated the favour of such Lowland gentlemen 
 in the vicinity as were friends to the good cause ; 
 and for the same reason, having incautiously quar- 
 relled with Mr. Bradwardine, who, notwithstand- 
 ing his peculiarities, was much respected 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, surmised that 
 he caused the enterprise 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 Stewart 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 
 
THE CHIEP AND HIS MANSION. 179 
 
 feal, trusty, and well-beloved Fergus Mac-Ivor of 
 Glennaquoich, in the county of Perth and king- 
 dom of Scotland. 
 
 With this future coronet glittering before his 
 eyes, Fergus plunged deeply into the correspond- 
 ence and plots of that unhappy period, and, like 
 all such active agents, easily reconciled his con- 
 science 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 personal interest. With 
 this insight into a bold, ambitious, and ardent, 
 yet artful and politic character, we resume the 
 broken thread of our narrative. 
 
 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 stories, constructed by 
 Fergus's grandfather when he returned 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 Northumber- 
 land, 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 attention to convenience, far 
 less to ornament and decoration, which usually 
 surrounds a gentleman's habitation. An enclos- 
 ure or two, divided by dry-stone walls, was the 
 only part of the domain that was fenced ; as to the 
 
i8o WAVEULEY. 
 
 rest, the narrow slips of level ground whicli 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 grazed 
 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 run- 
 ning as if they had been mad, and every one halloo- 
 ing 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 wild and desolate, rather than 
 grand and solitary. Yet, such as it was, no gen- 
 uine 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 pleasure than the finest view in 
 the domain assigned to him by the gratitude of his 
 country. This consisted of about a hundred High- 
 landers, in complete dress and arms, at sight of 
 whom the chieftain apologized 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 condition 
 to protect the country and prevent such accidents 
 as, he was sorry to learn, had befallen the Baron 
 of Bradwardine. Before they were dismissed, per- 
 haps Captain Waverley might choose to see them 
 go through a part of their exercise. 
 
 Edward assented, and the men executed with 
 agility and precision some of the ordinary military 
 movements. They then practised individually at 
 
THE CHIEF AND HIS MANSION. i8i 
 
 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 effect 
 upon the target. Next, they paired off for the 
 broadsword exercise ; and having manifested 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, pitching the bar, and other 
 sports, in which this feudal militia displayed in- 
 credible swiftness, strength, and agility, and ac- 
 complished 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 happiness 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. " 
 1 Note X.— Highland Discipline. 
 
i82 WAVERLEY. 
 
 " But with your force you might soon destroy or 
 put down 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 rude mansion." 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A HIGHLAND FEAST. 
 
 Eee 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 occa- 
 sion 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 be- 
 tween 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 handmaiden 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 occu- 
 pied all the first story of Ian nan Chaistel's origi- 
 nal erection, and a huge oaken table extended 
 through its whole length. The apparatus for din- 
 ner was simple even to rudeness, and the company 
 numerous even to crowding. At the head of the 
 
1 84 WAVBRLEY. 
 
 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 officers of 
 the chief's household, according to their order; 
 and, lowest of all, the tenants who actually culti- 
 vated the ground. Even beyond this long perspec- 
 tive, 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 countenance of the enter- 
 tainer and of the cheer of the day. In the dis- 
 tance, and fluctuating round this extreme verge of 
 the banquet, was a changeful group of women, 
 ragged boys and girls, 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 be- 
 stowed 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 stran- 
 ger. Lower down stood immense clumsy joints of 
 mutton and beef, which, but for the absence of 
 pork,i abhorred in the Highlands, resembled 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 
 i JJote XI.— Dislike of the Scotch to Pork. 
 
A HIGHLAND PEAST. 185 
 
 its legs, with a bunuh 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 vict- 
 uals seemed of yet coarser quality, though sufli- 
 ciently 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 chiefs 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 offence. 
 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 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 dinner, a tre- 
 mendous 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, apolo- 
 gized for the confusion occasioned by so large a 
 party, and pleaded the necessity of his situation, 
 1 Note XII.— A Scottish Dinner-table. 
 
1 86 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 them- 
 selves 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? 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 so many bold 
 and attached followers. 
 
 " Why, yes, " replied the chief ; " were I disposed, 
 like my father, to put myself in the way of get- 
 ting 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 ? '" Then, turning to the company, he pro- 
 posed 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 ap- 
 parently 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. " 
 
A HIGHLAND FEAST. 187 
 
 The old man, whose cup remained full, replied : 
 " There has been blood enough of the race of Ivor 
 on the hand of Bradwardine. " 
 
 " Ah, Ballenkeiroch, " replied the first, " you 
 think rather of the flash 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 gun 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 "VVaverley 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 Ballen- 
 keiroch's prejudice by informing him that Waver- 
 ley was 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 chief- 
 tain 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, immediately took the hint, and began to 
 chant, with low and rapid utterance, a profusion 
 of Celtic verses, which were received by the audi- 
 ence 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 commanding, attention, 
 and his tones rose into wild and impassioned 
 notes, accompanied with appropriate gestures. He 
 
i88 WAVERLBY. 
 
 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 coun- 
 tenances assumed a fiercer and more animated ex- 
 pression ; 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 ap- 
 peared rather to watch the emotions which were 
 excited, than to partake their high tone of enthu- 
 siasm, filled with claret a small silver cup which 
 stood by him. " Give this, " he said to an attend- 
 ant, " to Mac-Murrough nan Fonn [that is, 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, kiss- 
 ing 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 effusion of thanks and 
 praises of his chief. It was received with ap- 
 plause, but did not produce the effect of his first 
 poem. It was obvious, however, that the clan 
 
A HIGHLAND PEAST. 189 
 
 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 ; " " Hos- 
 pitality to the exile, and broken bones to the 
 tyrant ; " " The lads with the kilts ; " " High- 
 landers, shoulder to shoulder, " — ■ with many other 
 pithy sentiments of the like nature. 
 
 Edward was particularly solicitous to know the 
 meaning of that song which appeared to produce 
 such effect 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 in- 
 tellects 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 Waverley. As 
 the door closed behind them, Edward heard Vich 
 Ian Vohr's health invoked with a wild and ani- 
 mated cheer that expressed the satisfaction of the 
 guests and the depth of their devotion to his 
 service. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE chieftain's SISTEE. 
 
 The drawing-room of Flora Mac-Ivor was furnished 
 in tlie plainest and most simple manner; for at 
 Glennaquoich every otlier 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 peculiarity she 
 adopted in compliance with the Highland preju- 
 dices, 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 with the 
 same exquisite effect produced by the appearance 
 of Mrs. Henry Siddons and her brother, Mr. Wil- 
 liam Murray, in these characters. They had the 
 same antique and regular correctness of profile, the 
 
THE CHIEFTAIN'S SISTER. 191 
 
 same dark eyes, eyelashes, and eyebrows, 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 regularity of Fergus's features 
 was beautifully softened in those of Flora. Their 
 voices were also similar in tone, though differing 
 in the key. That of Fergus, especially while issu- 
 ing orders to his followers during their military 
 exercise, reminded Edward of a favourite passage 
 in the description of Emetrius, — 
 
 whose voice was heard around, 
 
 Loud as a trumpet witli a silver sound. 
 
 That of Flora, on the contrary, was soft and sweet, 
 — " an excellent thing in woman ; " yet in urging 
 any favourite topic, which she often pursued with 
 natural eloquence, it possessed as well the tones 
 which impress awe and conviction, as those of 
 persuasive insinuation. The eager glance of the 
 keen black eye, which in the chieftain seemed 
 impatient even of the material obstacles it encoun- 
 tered, had in his sister acquired a gentle pensive- 
 ness. 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 further distinction. Her sentiments cor- 
 responded 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 Stewart. She 
 believed it the duty of her brother, of his clan, of 
 every man in Britain, at whatever personal hazard, 
 
192 WAVERLEY. 
 
 to contribute to that restoration which the parti- 
 sans of the Chevalier St. George had not ceased to 
 hope for. For this she was prepared to do all, to 
 suifer all, to sacrifice all. But her loyalty, as it 
 exceeded her brother's in fanaticism, excelled it 
 also in purity. 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 diffi- 
 cult to say whether it would be most with the 
 view of making James Stewart 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 of 
 loyalty burned pure and unmixed with any selfish 
 feeling ; 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 fol- 
 lowers of the unhappy race of Stewart, 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 riveted their 
 faith. Fergus, upon the death of his parents, had 
 been for some time a page of honour in the train 
 of the Chevalier's lady, and from his beauty and 
 sprightly temper was uniformly treated by her 
 with the utmost distinction. This was also ex- 
 
THE CHIEFTAIN'S SISTER. 193 
 
 tended to Flora, who was maintained for some 
 time at a convent of the first order at the prin- 
 cess'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 com- 
 panion 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 Highland- 
 ers, 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 experi- 
 enced. 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 hereditary in her bosom — was, like her 
 loyalty, a more pure passion than that of her 
 brother. He was too thorough a politician, re- 
 garded 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 cher- 
 vof.. I. — 13 
 
194 WAVERLEY. 
 
 ishing and extending their patriarclial 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 com- 
 forts 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 toiled to procure something 
 which they might share with the chief, as a proof 
 of their attachment, than expected other assistance 
 from him save what was afforded by the rude hos- 
 pitality of his castle, and the general division and 
 subdivision of his estate among them. Plora 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 superiority 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. 
 
 Prom situation, as well as choice, Miss Mac- 
 Ivor's society was extremely limited. Her most 
 intimate friend had been Eose Bradwardine, to 
 whom she was much attached ; and when seen to- 
 gether, they would have afforded an artist two 
 admirable subjects for the gay and the melancholy 
 muse. Indeed, Eose was so tenderly watched by 
 her father, and her circle of wishes was so limited. 
 
THE CHIEETAIN'S SISTER. 195 
 
 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 other- 
 wise. 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, conse- 
 quently, was grave, though she readily contri- 
 buted her talents to the amusement 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 prudence, so necessary 
 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 Baron 
 had, on a former occasion, shed blood of the clan, 
 though the matter had been timely accommodated, 
 and on account of his high reputation for address 
 at his weapon, which Fergus almost condescended 
 to envy. For the same reason she had urged their 
 reconciliation, which the chieftain the more read- 
 
196 WA.VERLET. 
 
 ily 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. 
 
CHAPTEK XXII. 
 
 HIGHLAND MINSTRELSY. 
 
 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 extraordinary string of names which 
 Mac-Murrough has tacked together in Gaelic? 
 My life to a moor-fowl's feather, you are provided 
 with a version ; for I know you are in all the 
 bard's councils, and acquainted with his songs 
 long before he rehearses tlaem in the hall. " 
 
 " How can you say so, Fergus ? 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 
 
1 98 WAVERLEY. 
 
 else next time I hold cour pUniere, 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 so. There 
 are three things that are useless to a modern High- 
 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 mar^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, Plora, — 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 sena- 
 tors 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 chief- 
 tain 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 
 ' Note XIII.— Conan the Jester. 
 
HIGHLAND MINSTRELSY. 199 
 
 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 sympathize 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 
 mountains ? " 
 
 " That is a trying question. His reputation is 
 high among his countrymen, and you must not 
 expect me to depreciate it. " ^ 
 
 " 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 distinc- 
 tive peculiarities, and an exhortation to them to 
 remember and to emulate the actions of their 
 forefathers. " 
 
 " And am I wrong in conjecturing, however ex- 
 traordinary the guess appears, that there was some 
 allusion to me in the verses which he recited ? " 
 
 " You have a quick observation. Captain Waver- 
 ley, which in this instance has not deceived you. 
 
 1 The Highland poet almost always was an improvisatore. Cap- 
 tain Burt met one of them at Lovat's table. 
 
200 WAVERLEY. 
 
 The Gaelic language, being uncommonly vocalic, 
 is well adapted for sudden and extemporaneous 
 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 circum- 
 stances attending the recitation. " 
 
 " I would give my best horse to know what the 
 Highland bard could find to say of such an un- 
 worthy Southron as myself. " 
 
 " It shall not even cost you a lock of his mane. 
 Una, Mawurneen ! [She spoke a few words to one 
 of the young girls in attendance, who instantly 
 courtesied, and tripped out of the room. J 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 colour- 
 ing, she turned to Waverley, — "It is impossible 
 to gratify your curiosity. Captain Waverley, with- 
 out 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 at- 
 tempted, 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 in 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 bag- 
 
HIGHLAND MINSTRELSY. 201 
 
 pipes and the high applause of his guests. Hav- 
 ing 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 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 per- 
 mitted 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 be- 
 tween precipices, like a maniac from his confine- 
 ment, all foam and uproar. 
 
 It was up the course of this last stream that 
 Waverley, like a knight of romance, was con- 
 ducted by the fair Highland damsel, his 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 de- 
 scription 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 for- 
 
202 WAVERLEY. 
 
 bid the passenger's farther progress ; and it was 
 not until he approached its very base that Waver- 
 ley discerned the sudden and acute turn by which 
 the pathway wheeled its course around this for- 
 midable 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 
 rustic bridge at the height of at least one hundred 
 and fifty feet. It had no ledges, and was barely 
 three feet in breadth. 
 
 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 than when the fair appa- 
 rition passed on from the precarious eminence 
 which she seemed to occupy with so much in- 
 difference, 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 amphi- 
 theatre, waving with birch, young oaks, and ha- 
 zels, with here and there a scattered yew-tree. 
 The rocks now receded, but still showed their gray 
 and shaggy crests rising among the copse-wood. 
 
HIGHLAND MINSTRELSY. 203 
 
 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 waterfall. 
 It was not so remarkable either for great height or 
 quantity of water, as for the beautiful accompani- 
 ments 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, where the bubbles of the 
 fall subsided, was so exquisitely clear that al- 
 though it was of great depth, the eye could discern 
 each pebble at the bottom. Eddying round this 
 reservoir, the brook found its way as if over a 
 broken part of the ledge, and formed a second fall, 
 which seemed to seek the very abyss ; then, wheel- 
 ing 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 ; 
 but 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 roman- 
 tic wildness of the scene. 
 
 Here, like one of those lovely forms which deco- 
 rate the landscapes of Poussin, Waverley found 
 Flora gazing on the waterfall. Two paces farther 
 1 Note XlV.-Waterfall. 
 
204 WAVERLEY. 
 
 back stood Cathleen, holding a small Scottish 
 harp, the use of which had been , taught to Flora 
 by Kory Dall, one of the last harpers of the wes- 
 tern Highlands. The sun, now stooping in the 
 west, gave a rich and varied tinge to all the objects 
 which surrounded Waverley, and seemed to add 
 more than human brilliancy to the full, expressive 
 darkness of Flora's eye, exalted the richness and 
 purity of her complexion, and enhanced the dig- 
 nity and grace of her beautiful form. Edward 
 thought he had never, even in his wildest dreams, 
 imagined a figure of such exquisite and interest- 
 ing 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 Ariosto, by whose nod the scenery around 
 seemed to have been created, — an Eden in the 
 wilderness. 
 
 Flora, like every beautiful woman, was con- 
 scious of her own power, and pleased with its 
 effects, which she could easily discern from the 
 respectful, yet confused address of the young sol- 
 dier. But as she possessed excellent sense, she 
 gave the romance of the scene and other accidental 
 circumstances full weight in appreciating the feel- 
 ings with which Waverley seemed obviously to be 
 impressed; and unacquainted with the fanciful 
 and susceptible peculiarities of his character, con- 
 sidered his homage as the passing tribute which a. 
 woman of even inferior charms might have ex- 
 pected 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, 
 
HIGHLAND MINSTRELSY. 205 
 
 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 be- 
 cause a Highland song would suffer still more from 
 my imperfect translation, were I to introduce it 
 without its own wild and appropriate accompani- 
 ments. To speak in the poetical language of my 
 country, the seat of the Celtic Muse is in the midst 
 of the secret and solitary hill, and her voice in the 
 murmur of the mountain stream. He who woos 
 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 declaration, 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 which he heard the few first 
 notes she drew froni her instrument, amounted al- 
 most 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 monoto- 
 nous recitative of the bard for a lofty and uncom- 
 mon 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 
 
2o6 WAVEKLEY. 
 
 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: — 
 
 There is mist on the mountain, and night on the vale, 
 But more dark is the sleep of the sons of the Gael. 
 A stranger commanded, — it sunk on the land, 
 It has frozen each heart, and 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 with the heathcoek 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 fiown. 
 
 But the dark hours of night and of slumber are past. 
 The morn 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. 
 
 Oh, high-minded Moray,'' 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 ! 
 
 1 The young and daring adreuturev, 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. 
 
 2 The Marquis of Tullibardine's elder brother, who, long exiled, 
 returned to Scotland with Charles Edward in 1745. 
 
HIGHLAND MINSTRELSY. 207 
 
 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. 
 
 Oh, 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! 
 
 Stern 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 gray 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 gray ! 
 How the race of wronged Alpine and murdered Glencoe 
 Shall shout for revenge when they pour on the foe ! 
 
 Ye sous of brown Dermid who slew the wild boar. 
 Resume the pure faith of the great Callum-More ! (V) 
 Mac-Neil of the Islands, and Moy of the Lake, 
 Por honour, for freedom, for vengeance awake ! 
 
 Here a large greyhound, bounding up the glen, 
 jumped upon Flora, and interrupted her music by 
 his importunate caresses. At a distant whistle he 
 
2o8 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 cata- 
 logue of the tribes, whom one of your saucy Eng- 
 lish poets calls 
 
 Out bootless host of high-born beggars, 
 Mae-Leans, Mac-Kenzies, and Mac-Gregors. " 
 
 Waverley expressed his regret at the interrup- 
 tion. 
 
 " Oh, you cannot guess how much you have lost ! 
 The bard, as in duty bound, has addressed three 
 long stanzas to Vich Ian Vohr of the Banners, 
 enumerating all his great properties, and not for- 
 getting 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 
 where 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 horseman is 
 affectionately conjured to remember that his ances- 
 tors 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 ! 
 'T is the bugle, — but not for the chase is the call I 
 'T is the pibroch's shrill summons, — but not to the hall. 
 

 FLORA MAC IVOR . 
 
HIGHLAND MINSTRELSY. 209 
 
 'T is 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 I 
 May the blood through his veins flow like currents of fire I 
 Burst the base foreign yoke as your sires did of yore, 
 Or die like your sires, and endure it no more ! 
 
 VOL. I. — K 
 
CHAPTEE XXIII. 
 
 WAVEKLEY 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 cas- 
 cade, with all its accompaniments of rock and 
 roar; but this is Flora's Parnassus, Captain Wa- 
 verley, 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 usque- 
 baugh to correct, he said, the coldness of the 
 claret. Let me try its virtues. " He sipped a 
 little water in the hollow of his hand, and imme- 
 diately commenced, with a theatrical air, — 
 
 " Lady of the desert, hail ! ' 
 
 That lovest the harping of the Gael, 
 Through fair and fertile regions borne, 
 Where never yet grew grass or corn. 
 
 But English poetry will never succeed under the 
 influence of a Highland Helicon. Allans, courage ! 
 
 " O vous, qui buvez, k tasse pleine, 
 A cette heureuse fontaine, 
 
WAVERLEY CONTINUES AT GLENNAQUOICH. 2n 
 
 Ou on ne voit, sur le rivage, 
 Que quelques vilains troupeaux, 
 
 Suivis de. nyinphes de village, 
 Qui les escortent sans sabots — " 
 
 " A truce, dear Fergus ! spare us those most 
 tedious and insipid persons of all Arcadia. Do 
 not, for Heavep's sake, bring down Coridon and 
 Lindor upon us. " 
 
 " Nay, if yoi; cannot relish la houlette et le chalu- 
 meau, have wifch 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 helle 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 de Dio, che '1 here d' acque 
 (Bea chi ber ne vuol) sempre mi spiacque ! ' 
 
 But if you prefer the Gaelic, Captain Waverley, 
 here is little Cathleen shall sing you Drimmindhu. 
 Come, Cathleen, astore [that is, my dear], begin; 
 no apologies to the Cean-kinne." 
 
 Cathleen sung with much liveliness a little 
 Gaelic song, — the burlesque elegy of a country- 
 man on the loss of his cow, the comic tones of 
 which, though he did not understand the language, 
 made Waverley laugh more than once.^ 
 
 1 Good sooth, I reck nought of your Helicon ; 
 Drink water whoso will, in faith I will drink none ! 
 2 This ancient Gaelic ditty is still well known both in the High- 
 lands and in Ireland. It was translated into English and published, 
 if I mistake not, under the auspices of the facetious Tom D'Urfey, 
 by the title of " CoUey, my Cow." 
 
212 WAVERLEY. 
 
 " 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 ia which he and some other Highland gen- 
 tlemen proposed to join. The charms cjf melody 
 and beauty were too strongly impressed in Edward's 
 breast to permit his declining an invitation so 
 pleasing. It was agreed, therefore, that he should 
 write a note to the Baron of Bradwardine express- 
 ing his intention to stay a fortnight at Glenna- 
 quoich, 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 sol- 
 dier. His character was touched with yet more 
 discrimination by Flora, who observed he was the 
 very model of the old Scottish cavalier, with all 
 his excellences and peculiarities. " It is a char- 
 acter, Captain Waverley, which is fast disappear- 
 ing; for its best point was a self-respect which 
 was never lost sight of till now. But in the pres- 
 ent time, the gentlemen whose principles do not 
 permit them to pay court to the existing govern- 
 ment are neglected and degraded, and many con- 
 duct themselves accordingly, and, like some of 
 the persons you have seen at Tully-Veolan, adopt 
 habits and companions inconsistent with their 
 birth and breeding. The ruthless proscription of 
 party seems to degrade the victims whom it brands. 
 
WAVERLEY CONTINUES AT GLENNAQUOICH. 213 
 
 however unjustly. But let us hope a brighter day 
 is approaching, when a Scottish country gentle- 
 man 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 Eose 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 Eose 
 Bradwardine who shall be so fortunate as to be- 
 come their 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 affection. She will see noth- 
 ing, and connect herself with nothing, bvit by him 
 and through him. If he is a man of sense and 
 virtue, she will sympathize in his sorrows, divert 
 his fatigue, and share his pleasures. If she be- 
 comes the property of a churlish or negligent hus- 
 band, she will suit his taste also, for she will not 
 long survive his unkindness. And, alas ! how 
 great is the chance that some such unworthy lot 
 may be that of my poor friend ! Oh 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 Eose 
 Bradwardine ! " 
 
 " I wish you would command her to accept mine 
 en attendant, " said Fergus, laughing. 
 
2T4 WAVERLEY. 
 
 I don't know by what caprice it was that this 
 wish, however jocularly expressed, rather jarred 
 on Edward's feelings, notwithstanding his grow- 
 ing inclination to Flora and his indifference to 
 Miss Bradwardine. This is one of the inexplica- 
 bilities 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 Eose's heart. " 
 
 With this discourse they reached the castl«, and 
 Waverley soon prepared his despatches for TuUy- 
 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 
 J the family seal of the chieftain. 
 
 " Surely, " said Miss Mac-Ivor, " Donald Bean 
 Lean would not — " 
 
 " My life for him in such circumstances, " an- 
 swered her brother ; " besides, he would never 
 have left the watch behind. " 
 
 " After all, Fergus, " said Flora, " and with 
 every allowance, I am surprised you can counte- 
 nance that man. " 
 
 " I countenance him 1 This kind sister of mine 
 would persuade you, Captain Waverley, that I take 
 what the people of old used to call ' a steakraid, ' 
 that is, a 'coUop of the foray,' or, in plainer 
 words, a portion of the robber's booty, paid by 
 him to the laird or chief through whose grounds 
 he drove his prey. Oh, it is certain that unless I 
 
WAVERLEY CONTINUES AT GLENNAQUOICH. 215 
 
 can find some way to charm Flora's tongue, Gen- 
 eral 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 ban- 
 ditti, 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 ? 
 No cause should induce me to tolerate such a 
 character. " 
 
 " No cause. Flora ? " said the chieftain, signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 " No cause, Fergus ; not even that which is 
 nearest to my heart. Spare it the omen of such 
 evil supporters ! " 
 
 " Oh, but, sister, " rejoined the chief, gaily, 
 " you don't consider my respect for la telle passion. 
 Evan Dhu Maccombich is in love with Donald's 
 daughter Alice, and you cannot expect me to dis- 
 turb 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 
 Waverley ? Perhaps you will like better to dance 
 to them in the hall than to be deafened with their 
 
2i6 WAVERLEY. 
 
 harmony without taking part in the exercise they 
 invite us to. " 
 
 Waverley took Flora's hand. The dance, song, 
 and merry-making proceeded, and closed the day's 
 entertainment at the castle of Vich Ian Vohr. 
 Edward at length retired, his mind agitated by a 
 variety of new and conflicting feelings which de- 
 tained 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, systematize, or 
 examine them. At a late hour he fell asleep, 
 and dreamed of Flora Mac-Ivor. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 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) prob- 
 ably 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 pres- 
 ent 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 there- 
 fore consider. It is true that the annals and docu- 
 ments 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, mal- 
 vaise, hippocras, and aqua-vitse ; with wheat-bread, 
 main-bread, ginge-bread, beef, mutton, lamb, veal, 
 venison, goose, grice, capon, coney, crane, swan, 
 partridge, plover, duck, drake, brissel-cock, paw- 
 nies, black-cock, muir-fowl, and capercailzies ; " 
 not forgetting the " costly bedding, vaiselle, and 
 napry, " and last of all, the " excelling stewards, 
 
2i8 WAVERLEY. 
 
 cunning baxters, excellent cooks, and pottingars, 
 with confections and drugs for the desserts. " Be- 
 sides the particulars which may be thence gleaned 
 for this Highland feast (the splendour of which 
 induced the Pope's legate (s) to dissent from an 
 opinion which he had hitherto held, that Scot- 
 land, 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 frc^s and bogs and fogs, 
 'Mongst craggy cliffs and thunder-battered hills, 
 
 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 further tyranny over my readers, or 
 display of the extent of my own reading, I shall 
 content myself with borrowing a single incident 
 from the memorable hunting at Lude, commemo- 
 rated 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 composi- 
 tion, partaking of what scholars call the " peri- 
 phrastic" 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 Glen- 
 naquoich; for the impression which Flora had 
 made on his mind at their first meeting grew daily 
 stronger. She was precisely the character to 
 fascinate a youth of romantic imagination. Her 
 manners, her language, her talents for poetry and 
 
& 
 
 A STAG-HUNT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 219 
 
 music, gave additional and varied influence 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 evening, 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. Fer- 
 gus 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 stran- 
 ger when they should reach the place of rendez- 
 vous. They found, on the spot appointed, several 
 powerful chiefs, to all of whom Waverley was for- 
 mally presented, and by all cordially received. 
 Their vassals and clansmen, a part of whose feudal 
 daty 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, technically 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 
 
220 WAVERLEY. 
 
 them. In the meanwhile these distinguished • per- 
 sonages bivouacked among the flowery heath, 
 wrapped up in their plaids,— a mode of passing a 
 summer's night which Waverley found hy no 
 means unpleasant. 
 
 For many hours after sunrise the mountain 
 ridges and passes retained their ordinary appear- 
 ance of silence and solitude, 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 sat on 
 a hill retired," — probably as deeply engaged in 
 ..the discussion of politics and news as Milton's 
 spirits in metaphysical disquisition. 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 ad- 
 vanced parties of the deer began to show them- 
 selves ; 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 no- 
 tice and applause of the sportsmen. 
 
 But now the main body of the deer appeared at 
 
A STAG-HUNT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 221 
 
 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 re- 
 sounded from every quarter. The deer, driven to 
 desperation, inade at length a fearful charge right 
 upon the spot where the more distinguished sports- 
 men had taken their stand. The word was given 
 in Gaelic to fling themselves upon their faces ; but 
 Waverley, on whose English ears the signal 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 
 chieftain 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 suff'ered several very 
 severe contusions, and, upon a further examina- 
 
 1 The thrust from the tynes, or branches, of the stag's horns were 
 accounted 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. 
 
222 WAVERLEY. 
 
 tion, discovered that he had sprained his ankle 
 violently. 
 
 This cheeked the mirth of the meeting, although 
 the Highlanders, accustomed to such incidents, 
 and prepared for them, had suffered no harm them- 
 selves. A wigwam was erected almost in an in- 
 stant, where Edward was deposited on a couch of 
 heather. The surgeon — or he who assumed the 
 of&ce — appeared to unite the characters of a leech 
 and a conjuror. He was an old smoke-dried High- 
 lander, wearing a venerable gray beard, and having 
 for his sole garment a tartan frock, the skirts of 
 which descended to the knee, and, being undi- 
 vided in front, made the vestment serve at once 
 for doublet and breeches. ^ He observed great cere- 
 mony in approaching Edward; and though our 
 hero was writhing with pain, would not proceed 
 to any operation which might assuage it until he 
 had perambulated his couch three times, moving 
 from east to west, according to the course of the 
 sun. This, which was called making the " deasil, " ^ 
 both the leech and the assistants seemed to con- 
 sider as a matter of the last importance to the 
 accomplishment of a cure; and Waverley, whom 
 pain rendered incapable of expostulation, and who 
 indeed saw no chance of its being attended to, 
 submitted in silence. 
 
 After this ceremony was duly performed, the 
 
 1 This garb, which resembled the dress often put ou children in 
 Scotland called a " polonie " (that is, " polonaise "), is a very ancient 
 modification of the Highland garb. It was, in fact, the hauberk, or 
 shirt of mail, only composed of cloth instead of rings of armour. 
 
 2 Old Highlanders will still malie the " deasil " around those 
 whom they wish well to. To go round a person in the opposite 
 direction, or " wither-shius " (German, wider-shins)^ is unlucky, and 
 a sort of incantation. 
 
A STAG-HUNT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 223 
 
 old Esculapius let his patient blood with a cup- 
 ping-glass with great dexterity, and proceeded, 
 muttering all the while to himself in Gaelic, to 
 boil on the fire certain herbs, with which he com- 
 pounded an embrocation. He then fomented the 
 parts which had sustained injury, never failing to 
 murmur prayers or spells, which of the two Wa- 
 verley could not distinguish, as his ear only 
 caught the words " Gasper-Melchior-Balthazar- 
 max-prax-fax, " and similar gibberish. The fomen- 
 tation had a speedy effect in alleviating the pain 
 and swelling, which our hero imputed to the vir- 
 tue of the herbs or the effect of the chafing, but 
 which was by the by-standers unanimously ascribed 
 to the spells with which the operation had been 
 accompanied. Edward was given to understand 
 that not one of the ingredients had been gathered 
 except during the full moon, and that the herbalist 
 had, while collecting them, uniformly recited a 
 charm, which in English ran thus (t) : — 
 
 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 educa- 
 tion, seemed to fall in with the superstitious ideas 
 of his countrymen, either because he deemed it 
 impolitic to affect scepticism on a matter of gen- 
 
 1 This metrical spell, or something very like it, is preserved by 
 Beginald Scott in his work on Witchcraft. 
 
224 WAVERLEY. 
 
 eral 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 pro- 
 fessor of medicine with a liberality beyond the 
 utmost conception of his wildest hopes. He ut- 
 tered, on the occasion, so many incoherent bless- 
 ings in Gaelic and English that Mac-Ivor, rather 
 scandalized at the excess of his acknowledgments, 
 cut them short by exclaiming, " Ceud mile mhal- 
 loich ort ! " (that is, " A hundred thousand curses 
 on you ! ") 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 — threw 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 and hazel gray, " ^ 
 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 
 
 1 On the njorrow they made their biers 
 Of birch and hazel gray. 
 
 Chevji Chase. 
 
A STAG-HUNT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 225 
 
 sturdy Gael who have now the happiness to trans- 
 port the belles of Edinburgh, 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 breaking up of this sylvan camp.^ 
 
 The various tribes assembled, each at the pi- 
 broch of their native clan, and each headed by 
 their patriarchal ruler. Some, who had already 
 begun 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 sun. Most of the chiefs came to take fare- 
 well 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 and mustered, Mac-Ivor commenced his 
 march, but not towards 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 gen- 
 
 1 The Author has been sometimes accused of confounding fiction 
 with reality ; he therefore thinks it necessary to state that the cir- 
 cumstance of the hunting described in the text as preparatory to 
 the insurrection 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 Braemar, 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 were present on this 
 occasion. 
 
 VOL. I. — 15. 
 
■226 WAVERLEY. 
 
 tleman who he was sure would pay him every 
 attention, he himself should be under the neces- 
 sity 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 
 riot 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 gui- 
 dance of old Ballenkeiroch and Evan Dhu Maccom- 
 bich, apparently in high spirits. A few remained 
 for the purpose of escorting the chieftain, who 
 walked by the side of Edward's litter, and at- 
 tended 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 pain- 
 ful, 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 High- 
 lands 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 plen- 
 tiful, and varied with game and fish, offer an arti- 
 cle but what was of native produce. 
 
 Claiming himself no rights of clanship or 
 vassalage, he was fortunate in the alliance and 
 
A STAG-HUNT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 227 
 
 protection of Vicli Ian Vohr and other bold and 
 enterprising chieftains, who protected him in the 
 quiet, unambitious life he loved. It is true, the 
 youth born 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 gray 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, since his situation required assistance. 
 But his attention to a friend and guest of Vich Ian 
 Vohr was anxious and unremitted. Other embro- 
 cations 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 
 G-lennaquoich. 
 
 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 at- 
 tend his person, and who had 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, — 
 
228 WAVERLEY. 
 
 " What sent the messengers to hell, 
 Was asking what they knew Ml well." ^ 
 
 He was about to proceed, but Galium Beg said 
 rather pertly, as Edward thought, that " Ta Tig- 
 hearnach [that is, the chief] did not like ta Sas- 
 senagh duinhe-wassel to be pingled wi' mickle 
 speaking, as she was na tat weel. " From this 
 Waverley concluded 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 Glennaquoich. Waver- 
 ley joyfully acceded ; for the form of its fair mis- 
 tress 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, strid- 
 ing stoutly by 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 
 
 1 Corresponding to the Lowland saying, " Mopy ane speirs the 
 gate they ken fu' weel." 
 
A STAG-HUNT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 229 
 
 princess, to the wounded Moor Abindarez, whom 
 Eodrigo de Narvez, constable of Antiquera, con- 
 veys 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, Baldovinos 
 of the mountain. Ah, long rest to thy soul, Cer- 
 vantes ! 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 particu- 
 lars, 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 chief- 
 tain, 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 
 sprung 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 expression of 
 prayer or gratitude. After the pause of a minute, 
 she presented to Edward some letters which had 
 been forwarded from Tully-Veolan during his ab- 
 sence, 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 de- 
 spatches, and Edward speedily found that those 
 which he had received contained matters of very 
 deep interest. 
 
CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 NEWS FEOM ENGLAND. 
 
 The letters which Waverley had hitherto received 
 from his relations in England were not such as 
 required any particular notice in this narrative. 
 His father usually wrote to him with the pompous 
 affectation of 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 Waver- 
 ley, hitherto occupied by the amusements which 
 he had found at Tully-Veolan and Glennaquoich, 
 dispensed with paying any attention to hints so 
 coldly thrown out, especially as distance, shortness 
 of leave of absence, and so forth, furnished a 
 ready apology. But latterly the burden of Mr. 
 Eichard Waverley 's paternal "epistles consisted in 
 certain mysterious hints of greatness and influence 
 which he was speedily to attain, and which would 
 insure his son's obtaining the most rapid promo- 
 tion, should he remain in the military service. 
 Sir Everard's letters were of a different tenor. 
 They were short; for the good baronet was none 
 of your illimitable correspondents, whose manu- 
 script overflows the folds of their large post pa- 
 per, and leaves no room for the seal: but they 
 were kind and affectionate, and seldom concluded 
 
NEWS FROM ENGLAND. 231 
 
 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 Eachel 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 de- 
 generate days, containing, in the moderate compass 
 of ten folio pages, closely written, a precis of a 
 supplementary quarto manuscript of addenda, de- 
 lenda, 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, 
 which was much too heavy for the post, and which 
 he proposed to accompany with certain interesting 
 pamphlets, lately published by his friend in Little 
 Britain, with whom he had kept up a sort of liter- 
 ary 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 Hon- 
 our, 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 differ- 
 ent and more interesting complexion. It would be 
 
232 WAVERLEY. 
 
 impossible for tlie 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 others, they 
 had thought it worth while to practise upon 
 Eichard Waverley. This honest gentleman, by a 
 grave, mysterious demeanour, an attention to the 
 etiquette of business rather more than to its 
 essence, a facility in making long, dull speeches, 
 consisting of truisms and commonplaces, hashed 
 up with a technical jargon of office which pre- 
 vented the inanity of his orations from being dis- 
 covered, 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 pos- 
 sessed of steady parts for business, which would 
 wear well, as the ladies say in choosing their 
 silks, and ought in all reason to be good for com- 
 mon and every-day use, since they were confess- 
 edly formed of no holiday texture. 
 
 This faith had become so general that the insur- 
 gent party in the cabinet of which we have made 
 mention, after sounding Mr. Richard Waverley, 
 were so satisfied with his sentiments and abilities 
 
NEWS FROM ENGLAND. 233 
 
 as to propose that in case of a certain revolution 
 in the ministry, he should take an ostensible place 
 in the new order of things, not indeed of the very 
 first rank, but greatly higher, in point both of 
 emolument and influence, than 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 ambi- 
 tion 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 
 farther occasion for their services ; and in Eichard 
 Waverley's case, which the minister considered as 
 aggravated by ingratitude, dismissal was accom- 
 panied by something like personal contempt and 
 contumely. The public, and even the party of 
 whom he shared the fall, sympathized little in the 
 disappointment of this selfish and interested states- 
 man ; and he retired to the country under the com- 
 fortable reflection that he had lost, at the same 
 time, character, credit, and — what he at least 
 equally deplored — emolument. 
 
 Eichard 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 con- 
 sisted, unless it were in his deserting, not from 
 
234 WAVERLEY. „■ 
 
 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 vengfeance, 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 d.is- 
 grace seemed to have removed from his well- 
 natured bosom all recollection of their differences, 
 and, remote as he was from every means of learn- 
 ing that Eichard's disgrace was in reality only 
 the just as well as natural consequence of his 
 own unsuccessful intrigues, the good but credulous 
 baronet at once set it down as a new and enormous 
 instance of the injustice of the existing govern- 
 ment. It was true, he said, and he must not dis- 
 guise 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 Ever- 
 ard 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 
 consequences. It was enough for a Waverley to 
 have sustained the public disgrace; the patrimo- 
 nial injury could easily be obviated by the head of 
 their family. But it was both the opinion of Mr. 
 
NEWS PROM ENGLAND. 235 
 
 Richard Waverley and his own that Edward, the 
 representative of the family of Waverley Honour, 
 should not remain in a situation which suhjected 
 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 trans- 
 mitting his resignation to the War Of&ce, and 
 hinted, moreover, that little ceremony was neces- 
 sary where so little had been used to his father. 
 He sent multitudinous greetings to the Baron of 
 Bradwardine. 
 
 A letter from Aunt Eachel 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 grandfather. Sir Nigel Waverley, re- 
 fused to make, either to the Roundhead Parlia- 
 ment 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 usurping family, 
 and regard the wrongs sustained by his father 
 as an admonition from Heaven that every deser- 
 tion of the line of loyalty becomes its own pun- 
 ishment. 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 he 
 
236 WAVERLEY. 
 
 did when he was at Waverley Honour, about thirty- 
 years ago. 
 
 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 the 
 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 ac- 
 tively 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 hesi- 
 tation, 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 officers of his 
 regiment. If he could have had any doubt upon 
 the subject, it would have been decided by the fol- 
 lowing letter from his commanding ofBicer, which, 
 as it is very short, shall be inserted verbatim. 
 
 " SiE, — Having carried somewhat beyond the line cf 
 my duty an indulgence which even the lights of nature, 
 and much more those of Christianity, direct towards er- 
 rors which may arise from youth and inexperience, and 
 that altogether without effect, I am reluctantly com- 
 pelled, at the present crisis, to use the only remain- 
 ing remedy which is in my power. You are, therefore, 
 hereby commanded to repair to , the headquarters 
 
NEWS FBOM ENGLAND. 237 
 
 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 ahsent 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. Gommandinf/ the Eerjt. 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 habits 
 which rendered the rules of military discipline as 
 unpleasing to him in this as they were in some 
 other respects. An idea that in his 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 in- 
 duced 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, as Edward deemed it, so insolent a 
 tone of dictatorial authority. Connecting it with 
 the letters 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 con- 
 certed scheme to depress and degrade every mem- 
 ber of the Waverley family. 
 
 Without a pause, therefore, Edward wrote a few 
 cold lines, thanking his lieutenant-colonel for past 
 civilities, and expressing regret that he should 
 
238 WAVERLEY. 
 
 have chosen to efface the remembrance of them hy 
 assuming a different tone towards him. The strain 
 of his letter, as well as what he (Edward) con- 
 ceived to be his duty, in the present crisis, called 
 upon him to lay down his commission; and he 
 therefore enclosed the formal resignation of a 
 situation which subjected him to so unpleasant a 
 correspondence, 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 distinguished this young chieftain 
 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 deci- 
 sive activity of an intellect which was sharpened, 
 by the habit of acting on a preconceived and regu- 
 lar system, as well as by extensive knowledge 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 em- 
 barrassment of one who has unpleasing news to 
 communicate. " Do your letters. Captain Waver- 
 ley, confirm the unpleasing information which I 
 find in this paper ? " 
 
 He put the paper into his hand, where his 
 father's disgrace was registered in the most bitter 
 terms, — transferred, probably, from some London 
 
NEWS rilOM ENGLAND. 239 
 
 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 Waverhig 
 Honour of W-v-r-ly 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 with- 
 out leave ; " and in the list of military promotions, 
 referring to the same regiment, he discovered this 
 farther article : " Lieut. Julius Butler to be cap- 
 tain, vice Edward Waverley superseded. " 
 
 Our hero's bosom glowed with the resentment 
 which undeserved and apparently premeditated in- 
 sult was calculated to excite in the bosom of one 
 who had aspired after honour, and was thus wan- 
 tonly 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 ab- 
 sence 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 having succeeded filled him with 
 such bitter emotions that, after various attempts 
 to conceal 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 
 
240 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 inter- 
 est. 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 regi- 
 ment. But that, without further inquiry into the 
 circumstances of a necessary delay, the command- 
 ing officer, in contradiction to his known and 
 established character, should have proceeded in so 
 harsh and unusual a manner, was a mystery 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. 
 
 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 useful, or 
 lead to the righting your honour ; but in the pres- 
 ent case I doubt if your commanding officer would 
 give you the meeting, on account of his having 
 taken measures which, however harsh and exas- 
 perating, 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 impos- 
 sible 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 
 government. " 
 
NEWS PROM ENGLAND. 241 
 
 " And am I, " said Waverley, " to sit down quiet 
 and contented 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 grand- 
 father would no more have served than he would 
 have taken wages of red-hot gold from the great 
 fiend of hell ! " 
 
 " But since the time of my grandfather two gene- 
 rations of this dynasty have possessed the throne, " 
 said Edward, coolly. 
 
 " True, " replied the chieftain ; " and because we 
 have passively given them so long the means of 
 showing their native character; because both you 
 and I myself have lived in quiet submission, have 
 even truckled to the times so far as to accept com- 
 missions under them, and thus have given them 
 an opportunity of disgracing us publicly by resum- 
 ing them, — are we not on that account to resent 
 injuries which our fathers only apprehended, but 
 which we have actually sustained ? Or is the 
 cause of the unfortunate Stewart family become 
 less just because their title has devolved upon an 
 heir who is innocent of the charges of misgovern- 
 ment brought against his father ? Do you remem- 
 ber the lines of your favourite poet? — 
 
 Had Richard unconstrained resigned the throne, 
 A king can give no more than is his own ; 
 The title stood entailed had Richard had a son. 
 VOL. I. — 16. 
 
242 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 
 honourable 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 first add a postscript 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 your anticipating them by sending your 
 resignation ; then let him blush for his injustice. " 
 The letter was sealed accordingly, covering a 
 formal resignation 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-office in the Lowlands. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 AN EOLAIECISSEMKNT. 
 
 The hint which the chieftain had thrown out 
 respecting Flora was not unpremeditated. He 
 had observed with great satisfaction 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 ministry, and 
 Edward's own commission in the army of George 
 II. These obstacles were now removed, and in 
 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 insured 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 dedicated his service, by 
 an alliance with one of those ancient, powerful, 
 and wealthy English families of the steady Cava- 
 lier faith, to awaken whose decayed attachment to 
 the Stewart family was now a matter of such vital 
 importance to the Stewart cause. Nor could Fer- 
 gus perceive any obstacle to such a scheme. Wa- 
 verley's attachment was evident ; and as his person 
 was handsome, and his taste apparently coincided 
 with her own, he anticipated no opposition on the 
 
244 WAVERLEY. 
 
 part of Flora. Indeed, between his ideas of patri- 
 archal power, and those which he had acquired in 
 France respecting the disposal of females in mar- 
 riage, 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 found Flora, with her faithful attendants, 
 Una and Cathleen, busied in preparing what ap- 
 peared 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 Mac-Ivor made such ample preparation. 
 
 " It is for Fergus's bridal, " she said, smiling. 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Edward ; " he has kept his 
 secret well. I hope he will allow me to be his 
 bride 'sman. " 
 
 " That is a man's office, but not yours, as Bea- 
 trice 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 assist- 
 ant and counsellor in the pursuit of honour ? " 
 said our hero, colouring deeply. " Do I rank so 
 low in your opinion ? " 
 
 " Far from it. Captain Waverley. I would to 
 God you were of our determination, and made use 
 of the expression which displeased you, solely 
 
AN ECLAIRCISSEMEKT. 245 
 
 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 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 oh 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 adven- 
 turer 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, with great 
 sweetness. " Why should I refuse my brother's 
 
246 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 sum- 
 mons 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 in- 
 dignation, — how can I wish you to plunge your- 
 self 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 constrained 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. 
 
 There was a painful pause, which was at length 
 broken by Miss Mac-Ivor. " My brother is un- 
 just, " she said, " because he can bear no interrup- 
 tion that seems to thwart his loyal zeal. " 
 
 " And do you not share his ardour ? " 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 pre- 
 paration 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 cer- 
 tain, can only be furthered by measures in them- 
 selves true and just. To operate upon your present 
 
AN ECLAIRCISSEMENT. 247 
 
 feelings, my dear Mr. Waverley, to induce you to 
 an irretrievable step, of whicli you have not con- 
 sidered either the justice or the danger, is, in my 
 poor judgment, neither the one nor the other. " 
 
 " Incomparable Flora ! " said Edward, taking hei 
 hand, " how much do I need such a monitor ! " 
 
 " A better one by far, " said Flora, gently with- 
 drawing her hand, " Mr. "Waverley will always 
 find in his own bosom, when he will give its small 
 still voice leisure to be heard. " 
 
 " No, Miss Mac-Ivor, I dare not hope it ; a thou- 
 sand circumstances of fatal self-indulgence have 
 made me the creature rather of imagination than 
 reason. Durst I but hope — could I 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 of&cer 
 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 per- 
 mission, mention to your brother — " 
 
 " Not for the world, Mr. Waverley ! " 
 
 " What am I to understand ? " said Edward. 
 " Is there any fatal bar, has any prepossession — " 
 
 " None, sir, " answered Flora. " I owe it to my- 
 self to say that I never yet saw the person on 
 whom I thought with reference to the present 
 subject. " 
 
 " The shortness of our acquaintance, perhaps. 
 If Miss Mac-Ivor will deign to give me time — " 
 
248 WAVERLEY. 
 
 " I have not even that excuse. Captain Waver- 
 ley's character is so open — is, in short, of that 
 nature — that it cannot be misconstrued, 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 be- 
 tween us a barrier of a nature to me insurmount- 
 able, since I never could think of an officer in the 
 service of the Elector of Hanover in any other 
 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 resolution I shall ex- 
 press as may be satisfactory at least, if not pleas- 
 ing 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 be- 
 lieve his suit had been acceptable or no, Fergus 
 re-entered the apartment. " What, a la mort, Wa- 
 verley ? " he cried. " Come down with me to the 
 court, and you shall see a sight worth all the 
 tirades of your romances. An hundred 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? 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, 
 
AN ECLAIRCISSEMENT. 249 
 
 " all that I can charge against your sister is that 
 she is too sensible, too reasonable. " 
 
 " If that be all, I insure 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 mousquefaire. " So saying, he 
 seized Waverley's arm and dragged him off to re- 
 view his military preparations. 
 
CHAPTEE XXVII. 
 
 UPON THE SAME SUBJECT. 
 
 Fergus Mac-Ivor had too much tact and delicacy 
 to renew the subject which he had interrupted. 
 His head was, or appeared to be, so full of guns, 
 broadswords, bonnets, canteens, and tartan hose 
 that Waverley could not for some time draw his 
 attention to any other topic. 
 
 " Are you to take the iield 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 au established gov- 
 ernment ? It is mere frenzy. " 
 
 " Laissezfaire a Don Antoine, — I shall take good 
 care of myself. We shall at least use the compli- 
 ment of Conan, who never got a stroke but he gave 
 one. I would not, however, " continued the chief- 
 tain, " 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, will 
 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 
 
UPON THE SAME SUBJECT. 251 
 
 back to those that gave it ? My accepting it im- 
 plied 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 deception, and has been 
 repaid by insult. But if you cannot immediately 
 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 gentle- 
 men 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 vexest thou this man! Speak'st 
 thou of nothing but of ladies ? " 
 
 " Nay, be serious, my dear friend, " said Waver- 
 ley ; " I feel that the happiness of my future life 
 must depend upon the answer which 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 ? " 
 
 " My earnest, undoubtedly. How could you 
 suppose me jesting on such a subject ? " 
 
 " 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 
 
252 WAVERLEY. 
 
 they approve your connecting yourself with the 
 sister of a high-born Higlaland beggar ? " 
 
 "My uncle's situation," said Waverley, "his 
 general opinions, and his uniform indulgence, en- 
 title me to say that birth and personal qualities are 
 all he would look to in such a connection. And 
 where can I find both united in such excellence as 
 in your sister ? " 
 
 " Oh, 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. " 
 
 " Eeligion, perhaps, " said Fergus, " may make 
 obstacles ; though we are not bigoted Catholics. " 
 
 " My grandmother was of the Church of Eome, 
 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 deci- 
 sive 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, — Loyalty is her ruling passion ; 
 and since she could spell an English book, she has 
 been in love with the memory of the gallant Cap- 
 tain 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 
 
UPON THE SAME SUBJECT. 253 
 
 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 — I think I saw Flora go up towards the water- 
 fall a short time since ; follow, man, follow, — 
 don't allow the garrison time to strengthen its 
 purposes of resistance. Alerte k la muraille I 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 wishes, was mingled 
 with other feelings of a nature less easily defined. 
 He could not but remember how much this morn- 
 ing had changed his fate, and into what a compli- 
 cation 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 fa- 
 vour 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 infer 
 either the subversion 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 ? 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 dis- 
 
254 WAVEULEY. 
 
 tant spectator, the success of her brother's under- 
 taking, 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 des- 
 perate and impetuous motions, renouncing almost 
 the power of judging, or deciding upon the recti- 
 tude or prudence of his actions, — this was no 
 pleasing prospect for the secret pride of Waverley 
 to stoop to. And yet what other conclusion re- 
 mained, saving the rejection of his addresses by 
 Flora, — an alternative not to be thought of, in the 
 present high-wrought state of his feelings, with 
 anything short of mental agony. Pondering the 
 doubtful and dangerous prospect 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 approach, she rose, 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 unfavourable augury 
 for Waverley 's suit) was the first to enter upon the 
 subject of their last interview. " It is too impor- 
 tant, in every point of view, Mr. Waverley, to per- 
 mit 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 
 
UPON THE SAME SUBJECT. 255 
 
 complexion a little heightened, but her voice firm 
 and composed. " I should incur my own heavy 
 censure did I delay expressing my sincere convic- 
 tion that I can never regard you otherwise than as 
 a valued friend. 1 should do you the highest in- 
 justice did I conceal my sentiments for a moment. 
 I see I distress you, and I grieve for it ; but better 
 now than later ; and oh, 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 anticipate 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 confidenca " 
 
 She sat down upon a fragment of rock, and Wa- 
 verley, placing himself near her, anxiously pressed 
 for the explanation she offered. 
 
 " I dare hardly, " she said, " tell you the situa- 
 tion of my feelings, they are so different from 
 those usually ascribed 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. For myself, from my infancy till 
 this day, I have had but one wish, — the restora- 
 
256 WAVERLEY. 
 
 tion of my royal benefactors to their rightful 
 throne. It is impossible to express to you the 
 devotion of my 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 Eng- 
 lish palace will be alike indifferent to me. " 
 
 " But, dearest Flora, how is your enthusiastic 
 zeal for the exiled family inconsistent with my 
 happiness ? " 
 
 " Because you seek, or ought to seek, in the 
 object of your attachment a heart whose principal 
 delight should be in augmenting your domestic 
 felicity, and returning your affection, even to the 
 height of romance. To a man of less keen sensi- 
 bility and less enthusiastic tenderness of disposi- 
 tion. 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 would 
 be more in unison, and because his more blunted 
 sensibility would not require the return of enthu- 
 siasm which I have not to bestow. But you, Mr. 
 Waverley, would for ever refer to the idea of do- 
 mestic happiness, which your imagination is ca- 
 pable of painting, and whatever fell short of that 
 ideal representation would be construed into cool- 
 ness and indifference, while you might consider 
 
UPON THE SAME SUBJECT. 257 
 
 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. Oh, 
 do not, for your own sake, desire so hazardous an 
 experiment. The woman whom you marry ought 
 to have affections and opinions 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 describe 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 ? " 
 
 " And might not the granting the suit I solicit, " 
 said Waverley, too earnest on his purpose to con- 
 sider what he was about to say, " even advance the 
 interest to which you have devoted yourself ? My 
 family is wealthy and powerful, inclined in prin- 
 ciples to the Stewart race, and should a favourable 
 opportunity — " 
 
 " 'A favourable opportunity ! ' " said Flora, some- 
 what scornfully ; " ' inclined in principles ! ' Can 
 such lukewarm adherence be honourable to your- 
 selves or gratifying to your lawful sovereign ? 
 
 VOL. I — 17 
 
2S8 WAVERLEY. 
 
 Think, from my present feelings, what I should 
 suffer when I held the place of member in a fam- 
 ily 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 prepossession 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 ut- 
 tered vindicated the strength of his attachment; 
 for even her loyalty, although wildly enthusiastic, 
 was generous and noble, and disdained to avail it- 
 self of any indirect means of supporting the cause 
 to which she was devoted. 
 
 After walking a little way in silence down the 
 path. Flora thus resumed the conversation : " One 
 word more, Mr. Waverley, ere we bid farewell to 
 this topic for ever ; and forgive my boldness if that 
 word have the air of advice. My brother Fergus 
 is anxious that you should join him in his present 
 enterprise. But do not consent to this ; you could 
 not, by your single exertions, further his success. 
 
UPON THE SAME SUBJECT. 259 
 
 and you would inevitably share his fall if it be 
 God's pleasure that fall he must. Your character 
 would also suffer irretrievably. Let me beg you 
 will return to your own country ; and having pub- 
 licly 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 natural followers and adherents, 
 a worthy representative of the house of Waverley. " 
 
 " And should I be so happy as thus to distin- 
 guish 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 enter- 
 tain ; 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 in- 
 terview 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 their 
 festivity was ended, he began to consider how he 
 stiould 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 
 
26o WAVERLEY. 
 
 designed to keep her apartment tliat evening, went 
 himself in quest of her; but apparently his re- 
 monstrances 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 Waver ley, to the subject which engrossed the 
 reflections of the latter, and perhaps of both. 
 
 When retired to his own apartment, Edward en- 
 deavoured to sum up the business of the day. That 
 the repulse he had received from Flora would 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? 
 Would the enthusiastic loyalty, which at this 
 animating moment left no room for a softer pas- 
 sion, survive, at least in its engrossing force, the 
 success or the failure of the present political 
 machinations ? And if so, could he hope that the 
 interest which she had acknowledged him to pos- 
 sess in her favour, might be improved into a 
 warmer attachment? He taxed his memory to 
 recall every word she had used, with the appro- 
 priate 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 XXVIII. 
 
 A LETTER FROM TULLY-VEOLAN. 
 
 In the morning, when Waverley's troubled reflec- 
 tions 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 gen- 
 erally 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 dis- 
 pelled. 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 
 under the window: — 
 
 My heart 's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, 
 My heart 's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer ; 
 A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, 
 My heart 's in the Highlands wherever I go. i 
 
 Curious to know what could have determined Mr. 
 Gellatley on an excursion of such unwonted extent, 
 Edward began to dress himself in all haste, during 
 
 1 These lines form the burden of an old song to which Burns 
 wrote additional verses. 
 
262 WAVERLEY. 
 
 which operation the minstrelsy of Davie changed 
 its tune more than once, — 
 
 There 'a 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 '11 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 " 
 (that is, blow up), and relieved him from the 
 latter part of his trouble. Young 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 grin- 
 ning, nodding, and throwing one or two inclina- 
 tions 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, whooping 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 keep- 
 ing time to the music like Harlequin in a panto- 
 mime, he thrust a letter into our hero's hand, and 
 
 1 These lines are also ancient, and I believe to the tune of 
 " We 'II never hae peace till Jamie comes liame ; " 
 to which Burns likewise wrote some verses. 
 
A LETTER PROM TULLY-VEOLAN. 263 
 
 continued his saltation without pause or intermis- 
 sion. Edward, who perceived that the address 
 was in Eose's handwriting, retired to peruse it, 
 leaving the faithful 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 shall be given in Eose's 
 own language: — 
 
 " I fear I am using 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 I 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 
 protection, God alone knows. You have probably 
 heard that in consequence of some troublesome news 
 from the Highlands, warrants were sent out for appre- 
 hending 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 gov- 
 ernment, he joined with Mr. Falconer and some other 
 gentlemen, and they have all gone northwards, with a 
 body of about forty horsemen. So I am not so anxious 
 concerning his immediate safety as about what may 
 follow afterwards, for these troubles are only begin- 
 ning. 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 
 
•254 WAVERLET. 
 
 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 oh, Mr. Waverlej^, 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 be- 
 haved 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 false- 
 hoods 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 fighting among 
 clans permitted, 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, 
 though perhaps erroneously, that your safety and hon- 
 our are concerned. I am sure — at least I think — 
 my father would approve of my writing ; for Mr. Rubric 
 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 (lie 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 
 
A LETTER PROM TULLY-VEOLAN. 265 
 
 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 Bkadwaedinb. 
 
 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 G-lennaquoich. Is she not as handsome 
 and accomplished as I described her? " 
 
 Thus concluded the letter of Eose Bradwardine, 
 the contents of which both surprised and affected 
 Waverley. That the Baron should fall under the 
 suspicions of government, in consequence of the 
 present stir among the partisans of the house of 
 Stewart, seemed only the natural consequence of 
 his political predilections; but how he himself 
 should have been involved in such suspicions, 
 conscious that until 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 gov- 
 ernment, and though enough passed by accidental 
 innuendo that might induce him to reckon the 
 Baron and the chief among those disaffected gen- 
 tlemen who were still numerous in Scotland, yet 
 until his own connection with the 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 
 
266 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 sat- 
 isfactory 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 accessory to the plague of civil 
 war. Whatever were the original rights of the 
 Stewarts (m), calm reflection told him that, omit- 
 ting 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 for- 
 feited his own. Since that period, four monarchs 
 had reigned in peace and glory over Britain, sus- 
 taining and exalting the character of the nation 
 abroad, and its liberties at home. Eeason asked. 
 Was it worth while to disturb a government so 
 long settled and established, and to plunge a king- 
 dom into all the miseries of civil war, for the pur- 
 pose of replacing upon the throne the descendants 
 of a monarch by whom it had been wilfully for- 
 feited? If, on the other hand, his own final 
 conviction of the goodness of their cause, or the 
 commands of his father or uncle, should recom- 
 mend to him allegiance to the Stewarts, still it was 
 necessary 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 affectionate simplicity of Eose 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 
 
A LETTER FROM TULLY-VEOLAN. 267 
 
 impression upon his mind, and he instantly wrote 
 to thank her in the kindest terms for her solici- 
 tude 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 Mac-Ivor, perhaps for ever. The pang at- 
 tending this reflection was inexpressible; for her 
 high-minded elevation of character, her self-devo- 
 tion 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, 
 calumny was busy with his fame, and every hour's 
 delay increased the power to injure it. His de- 
 parture must be instant. 
 
 With this determination he sought out Fergus 
 and communicated to him the contents of Eose's 
 letter, with his own resolution 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 se- 
 verity of a government harassed by just apprehen- 
 sions, and a consciousness of their own illegality 
 and insecurity. I shall have to deliver you from 
 some dungeon in Stirling or Edinburgh Castle. " 
 
 " My innocence, my rank, my father's intimacy 
 
 with Lord M , General G , etc., will be 
 
 a sufficient protection," said Waverley. 
 
 " You will find the contrary, " replied the chief- 
 tain ; " these gentlemen will have enough to do 
 
268 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 Oggam ^ character, or some Punic 
 hieroglyphic upon the key-stones of a vault curi- 
 ously arched. Or what say you to un petit pende- 
 ment Men 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 gen- 
 tleman ; thirdly, a prelatist abjured ; and, fourthly, 
 they have not had an opportunity 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. " 
 
 1 A Highland rhyme on Glencairn's expedition, in 1650, has 
 these lines — 
 
 " We '11 bide a while among ta crows, 
 We '11 wiske ta sword and bend ta bow.<i." 
 
 2 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 Plautus, was not started tiU General Vallancey set up his 
 theory, long after the date of Fergus Mac-Ivor. (;;) 
 
A LETTER FROM TULLY-VEOLAN. 269 
 
 " 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. [Eemember, 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 Edin- 
 burgh. Put on a Lowland dress, Galium, 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. " 
 
 " Cathleen, let my sister know Mr. Waverley 
 wishes to bid her farewell before he leaves us. 
 But Eose Bradwardine, her situation must be 
 thought of, — I wish she were here. And why 
 should she not ? There are but four red-coats at 
 Tully-Veolan, and their muskets would be very 
 useful to us.^' 
 
 To these broken remarks Edward made no 
 
370 WAVERLEY. 
 
 answer; his ear indeed received them, but his soul 
 was intent upon the expected entrance of Flora. 
 The door opened, — it was but Cathleen, with her 
 lady's excuse, and wishes for Captain Waverley's 
 health and happiness. 
 
CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 "WAVEELEY'S EECEPTION IN THE LOWLANDS AFTEB 
 HIS HIGHLAND TOUE. 
 
 It was noon when the two friends stood at the top 
 of the pass of Bally-Brough. " I must go no far- 
 ther, " said Fergus Mac-Ivor, who during the jour- 
 ney had in vain endeavoured 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 your interest to me ; I will not betray 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 de- 
 ceived me. " ^ 
 
 Thus parted the friends, — Fergus returning 
 back to his castle; while Edward, followed by 
 
 1 The sanguine Jacobites, during the eventful years 1745-46, 
 kept up the spirits of their party by the rumour of descents from 
 France on behalf of the Chevalier St. George. («') 
 
272 WAVERLEY. 
 
 Galium Beg, the latter transformed from point to 
 point into a Low-country groom, proceeded to the 
 little town of . 
 
 Edward paced on under the painful and yet not 
 altogether embittered feelings which separation and 
 uncertainty produced 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. Dis- 
 tance, 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 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 magnanimity, and almost pardoned her indiffer- 
 ence 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 in- 
 dividual who should be so fortunate as to awaken 
 them ? Then came the doubtful question whether 
 he might not be that happy man, — a question 
 which fancy endeavoured to answer in the affirma- 
 tive, by conjuring up all she had said in his praise, 
 with the addition of a comment much more flat- 
 
WAVBRLEY'S RECEPTION. 273 
 
 tering than the text warranted. All that was 
 commonplace, 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 natural politeness 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 Wliigs, deil burst tern. " 
 
 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 of an 
 old mossy, green, inverted porridge-pot that hung 
 in an open booth of the size and shape of a parrot's 
 
 1 The Highlander in former times ]iad always a high idea of his 
 own gentility, and was anxious to impress the same upon those 
 with whom he conversed. His language abounded in the phrases 
 of courtesy and compliment, 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. 
 
 VOL. I. — 18 
 
274 WAVERLEY. 
 
 cage, erected to grace the east end of a building 
 resembling an old barn, he asked Galium Beg if 
 it were Sunday. 
 
 " Could na say just preoeesely ; 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 Eentowel and that chosen vessel Maister 
 Groukthrapple, induced Galium to assure his tem- 
 porary master " that it was either ta muckle Sun- 
 day 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 delec- 
 tation of the guests, was graced with a short He- 
 brew 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. Eefiecting, 
 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. 
 
WAVERLEY'S RECEPTION. 275 
 
 " 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 Candlestick, 
 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 return, as 
 worthy Mr. Goukthrapple said; and moreover 
 when, as the precious Mr. Jabesh Eentowel did 
 weel observe, the land was mourning for covenants 
 burnt, broken, and buried. " 
 
 " My good friend, " said Waverley, " if you can- 
 not let me have a horse and guide, my servant 
 shall seek them elsewhere. " 
 
 "Aweel! Your servant, — and what for gangs 
 he not forward wi' you himsell?" 
 
 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 hap- 
 pened, 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 reck- 
 onings. Some of this useful talent our hero had, 
 however, acquired during 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 
 
276 WAVERLEY. 
 
 to take his orders for dinner, bnt 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 in which Galium Beg rubbed down 
 the horses after their journey, Waverley heard the 
 following dialogue betwixt the subtle foot-page 
 of Vich Ian Vohr and his landlord : — 
 
 " Ye '11 be frae the North, young man ? " began 
 the latter. 
 
 " And ye may say that, " answered Galium. 
 
 " And ye '11 hae ridden a lang way the day, it 
 may weel be ? " 
 
 " Sae lang that I could weel tak a dram. " 
 
 " Gudewife, bring the gill stoup. " 
 
 Here some compliments passed fitting the occa- 
 sion, when my host of the Golden Candlestick, 
 having, as he thought, opened his guest's heart by 
 this hospitable propitiation, resumed his scrutiny. 
 
 " Ye '11 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?" 
 
 " Ay, — that 's when I left it mysell, " answered 
 the cool and impenetrable Galium Beg. 
 
 " And what kind of a gentleman is he ? " 
 
 " 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. " 
 
WAVERLEY'g RECEPTION. 277 
 
 " He wants a guide and a horse frae hence to 
 Edinburgh ? " 
 
 " 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. 
 Cruickshanks, who, though not quite satisfied 
 either with the reserve of the master or the ex- 
 treme readiness of the man, was contented to lay 
 a tax on the reckoning and horse-hire that might 
 compound for his ungratified curiosity. The cir- 
 cumstance of its being the fast day was not forgot- 
 ten 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 in- 
 conveniences. 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 trea- 
 sure in his fob ; and then, as if he conceived the 
 benevolence called for some requital on his part, 
 he gathered close up to Edward, with an. expres- 
 
278 WAVERLBY. 
 
 sion of countenance peculiarly knowing, and spoke 
 in an under tone : " If his honour 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 skene-occle. " 
 
 " ' 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 deposited under it, in the lin- 
 ing of his jacket. Waver ley thought he had mis- 
 understood his meaning ; he gazed in his face, and 
 discovered in Calhim's very handsome, though 
 embrowned features, just the degree of roguish 
 malice with which a lad of the same age in Eng- 
 land would have brought forward a plan for rob- 
 bing an orchard. 
 
 " Good God, Galium, would you take the man's 
 life ? " 
 
 " 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 argu- 
 ment, and therefore contented himself with enjoin- 
 ing Galium to lay aside all practices against the 
 person of Mr. Ebenezer Gruickshanks ; in which 
 injunction the page seemed to acquiesce with an 
 air of great indifference. 
 
 " Ta duinhe-wassel might please himsell ; ta auld 
 rudas loon had never done Galium nae ill. But 
 here 's a bit line frae ta Tighearna, tat he bade me 
 gie your honour ere I came back. " 
 
WAVERLEY'S RECEPTION. 279 
 
 The letter from the chief contained Flora's lines 
 on the fate of Captain Wogan, whose enterprising 
 character is so well drawn by Clarendon. He had 
 originally engaged in the service of the Parlia- 
 ment, but had abjured that party upon the execu- 
 tion of Charles 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 Charles 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 domina- 
 tion 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 reputation, he had 
 the misfortune to be wounded in a dangerous man- 
 ner, and no surgical assistance being within reach, 
 he terminated 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 peculiarly. 
 But his letter turned chiefly upon some trifling 
 commissions which Waverley had promised to exe- 
 cute for him in England, and it was only towards 
 the conclusion that Edward found these words : 
 " I owe Flora a grudge for refusing us her com- 
 pany 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 crossbow from London, I will enclose 
 her verses on the Grave of Wogan. This I know 
 
28o WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 wreathe 
 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, — 
 
 TO AN OAK TREE, 
 
 In the Churchyard of , in the Highlands of Scotland, said to 
 
 mark the' Grave of Captain Wogan, killed in 1649. 
 
 Emblem of England's ancient faith, 
 Full ^proudly may thy branches wave 
 
 Where 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 sun they pine, 
 Before the winter storm decay, — 
 
 And can their worth be type of thine 1 
 
 No ; for 'mid storms of Fate opposing, 
 Still higher swelled thy daimtless heart, 
 
 And while Despair the scene was closing, 
 Commenced thy brief .but brilliant part. 
 
 'T was then thou sought'st on Albyn's hill 
 (When England's sons the strife resigned) 
 
 A rugged race resisting still. 
 And unsubdued, though unrefined. 
 
WAVERLEY'S RECEPTION. 281 
 
 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 w^hose 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 im- 
 pression upon her lover. The lines were read, 
 read again, then deposited in Waverley's bosom; 
 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. Cruick- 
 shanks, with the sublunary articles of dinner and 
 wine, hardly interrupted this pantomime of affec- 
 tionate enthusiasm. 
 
 At length the tall, ungainly figure and ungra- 
 cious 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 
 stuff, which, when drawn over the head and hat, 
 completely overshadowed both, and being buttoned 
 beneath the chin, was called a " trot-cozy. " His 
 
282 WAVERLEY. 
 
 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 ? " 
 
 " I do, as far as Perth, where ye may be sup- 
 plied 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. 
 Waver ley stared at the man's impudence; but as 
 their connection was to be short, and promised to 
 be convenient, he made no observation upon it, 
 and having paid his reckoning, expressed his in- 
 tention to depart immediately. He mounted Der- 
 mid accordingly, and sallied forth from the Golden 
 Candlestick, 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 imag- 
 ining the astonishment which his person and equi- 
 page would have excited at Waverley Honour. 
 
 Edward's tendency to mirth did not escape mine 
 host of the Candlestick, who, conscious of the 
 
WAVERLEY'S RECEPTION. 283 
 
 cause, infused a double portion of souring into the 
 Pharisaical leaven of his countenance, and resolved 
 internally that, in one way or other, the young 
 Englisher should pay dearly for the contempt with 
 which he seemed to regard him. Galium also 
 stood at the gate, and enjoyed, with undissembled 
 glee, the ridiculous figure of Mr. Cruickshanks. 
 As Waverley passed him, he pulled off 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 fare- 
 well ; 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 half-paved street. The village of 
 was soon several miles behind him. 
 
AUTHOR'S NOTES. 
 
 Note I. p. 47. — Titus Livids. 
 
 The attachment to this classic was, it is said, actually dis- 
 played, in the manner mentioned in the text, by an unfortunate 
 Jacobite in that unhappy period. He escaped from the jail 
 in which be was confined, for a hasty trial and certain condem- 
 nation, 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 Titus 
 Livius. I am sorry to add that the simplicity of such a char- 
 acter was found to form no apology for his guilt as a rebel, 
 and that he was condemned and executed. 
 
 Note II. p. 52. — 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 Eobert 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 Ms labours. If we excuse 
 Bolingbroke, who had only saved the shipwreck of his for- 
 tunes, 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 hogs- 
 head of claret! He died, it is supposed, of a broken heart, 
 and was buried at the charge of his honest printer, Richard 
 Francklin " (Lord Chesterfield's Characters Reviewed, p. 42). 
 
 Note III. p. 56. — Colonel Gardinee. 
 
 I have now given in the text the full name of this gallant 
 and excellent man, and proceed to copy the account of his 
 remarkable conversion, as related by Dr. Doddridge. 
 
286 AUTHOR'S NOTES. 
 
 " 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 com- 
 pany broke up about eleven ; and not judging it convenient to 
 anticipate the time appointed, he went into his chamber to 
 kill the tedious hour, perhaps with some amusing book or 
 some other way. But it very accidentally happened that he 
 took up a religious book, which 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 spiritualized in a man- 
 ner which he thought might afford him some diversion, he 
 resolved to dip into it ; but he took no serious notice of any- 
 thing 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 conseq^uences. 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 ej^es, he apprehended, to his ex- 
 treme amazement, that there was before him, as it were sus- 
 pended 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 equivalent 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 1 ' Struck with so amazing a phenome- 
 non as this, there retnained hardly any life in him, so that he 
 sunk down in the armchair in which he sat, and continued, he 
 knew not how long, insensible." 
 
 " With regard to this vision," says the ingenious Dr. Hib- 
 bert, "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 mind, 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 ren- 
 dered as vivid as actual impressions, we have no information 
 
AUTHOR'S NOTES. 287 
 
 to be depended upon. This vision was certainly attended 
 with one of the most important of consequences connected 
 with the Christian dispensation, — the conversion of a sinner ; 
 and hence no single narrative has perhaps done more to con- 
 firm the su.perstitious opinion that apparitions of this awful 
 kind cannot arise without a divine fiat." Dr. Hibhert 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?" {Hihhert's Philo- 
 sophy of Apparitions, Edinburgh, 1824, p. 3 90.) 
 
 Note IV. 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 caUed for, was expected by certain old landlords in Scot- 
 land, even in the youth of the Author. In requital, mine 
 host was always furnished -vnih the news of the country, and 
 was probably a little of a humourist to boot. The devolution 
 of the whole actual business and drudgery of the inn upon the 
 poor gudewife was very common among the Scottish Boni- 
 faces. 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 coffee- 
 house, one of the first places of the kind which had been 
 opened in 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 guns and fishing-rods, and replied 
 calmly to some one who inqiiired 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 enter- 
 taining the company. In either case the omitting to pay them 
 
288 AUTHOR'S NOTES. 
 
 due attention gave displeasure, and perhaps brought down a 
 smart jeat, as on the following occasion : — 
 
 A jolly dame who, not " Sixty Years since," kept the prin- 
 cipal caravansary 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 minister of the 
 Kirk of Scotland, and here sit my three sons, each a placed 
 minister of the same kirk. Confess, Luokie 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 could play amang them." 
 
 Note V. p. 87. — Stirrdp-Cup. 
 
 I may here mention that the fashion of compotation de- 
 scribed 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 claehan, 
 or village, in "womb of tavern." Their- entertainer always 
 accompanied them to take the stirrup-cup, which often occa- 
 sioned 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 exhib- 
 ited, 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 swallow;ing 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 Thirles- 
 tane (not Thirlestane in the Forest, but the place of the same 
 name in Roxburghshire) was long preserved a cup of the same 
 
AUTHOR'S NOTES. 289 
 
 kind, in tlie form of a jack-boot. Each guest was obliged to 
 empty this at his departure. If the guest's name was Scott, 
 the necessity was doubly imperative. 
 
 When the landlord of an inn presented his guests with 
 deoch ail doi-uis, — that is, the drink at the door, or the stir- 
 rup-cup, — the draught was not charged in the reckoning. On 
 this point a learned bailie of the town of Forfar pronounced a 
 very sound judgment. 
 
 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 neigh- 
 bour 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 her tub empty, and from 
 the cow's staggering and staring so as to betray her intemper- 
 ance, 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 remonstrated 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 con- 
 veyed 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 lier potation, or taken it 
 standing. The plaintifl' answered, she had not seen the deed 
 committed, but she supposed the cow drank the ale while 
 standing on her feet ; adding, that had she been near, she 
 would have made her use them to some purpose. The 
 bailie, 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 hospitality of 
 Scotland. 
 
 Note VI. p. 153. — Rob Roy. 
 An adventure very similar to what is here stated, actually 
 befell the late Mr. Abercromby of Tullibody, grandfather 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 
 
 VOL. I. — 19 
 
290 AUTHOR'S NOTES. 
 
 with much courtesy, and made many apologies for the acci- 
 dent, 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 haying 
 agreed to pay in future a small sum of blackmail, in consider- 
 ation of which Rob Eoy 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 circum- 
 stances were true; but the laird thought it quite unnecessary 
 to undeceive his Highland host at the risk of bringing on a 
 political dispute in such a situation. This anecdote I re- 
 ceived many years since (about 1792) from the mouth of the 
 venerable gentleman who was concerned in it. 
 
 Note VII. p. 164. — Kind Gallows of Crieff. 
 
 This celebrated gibbet was, in the memory of the last gen- 
 eration, still standing at the western end of the town of Crieff, 
 in Perthshire. AVhy 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 country- 
 men, with the ejaculation, " God bless her nain sell, and the 
 Tiel 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 fulfilment of a natural destiny. 
 
 Note VIII. p. 167. — Caterans. 
 The story of the bridegroom 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 Schihallion. 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 
 
AUTHOR'S NOTES. 291 
 
 attendance, Mac-Nab did not pretend to he positive, but so it 
 was that the prisoner recovered, his ransom was x^aid, and he 
 was restored to his friends and bride, but always considered 
 the Highland robbers as having saved his life by their treat- 
 ment of his malady. 
 
 Note IX. p. 177. — Highland Policy. 
 
 This sort of political game ascribed to Mao-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 in- 
 dependent 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 himself would have nothing to do with king- 
 making, declaring himself for that monarch, and no other, 
 
 who gave the Laird of Mac " half-a-gninea the day, and 
 
 half-a-guinea the morn." 
 
 Note X. p. 181. — Highland Discipline. 
 
 In explanation of the military exercise observed at the 
 Castle of Glennaquoich, 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 dispos- 
 ing 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 another which 
 enabled them to start up with sword and pistol in hand on the 
 shghtest alarm. 
 
 Previous to 1720, or thereabouts, the belted plaid was uni- 
 versally 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. 
 
292 AUTHOR'S NOTES. 
 
 The manner of handling the pistol and dirk was also part 
 of the Highland manual exercise, which the Author has seen 
 gone through by men who had learned it in their youth. 
 
 Note XI. p. 184. — Dislike of the Scotch to Pork. 
 
 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 recorded this peculiarity, where 
 the gipsy in a masque, examining the king's hand, says, 
 
 —you should by this line . 
 Love a horse and a hound, but no part of a swine. 
 
 The Oipsies Metamorphosed. 
 
 James's own proposed banquet for the Devil was a loin of 
 pork and a poll of ling, with a pipe of tobacco for digestion. 
 
 Note XII. p. 185. — 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 retained a custom which had been for- 
 merly universally observed throughout Scotland. " I myself," 
 says the traveller, Fynes Morrison, in the end of Queen Eliza- 
 beth'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 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 respect- 
 able 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 sometimes 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 preten- 
 sions to be a duinhe-wassel, the full honour of the sitting, but 
 at the same time took care that his young kinsmen did not ac- 
 
AUTHOR'S NOTES. 293 
 
 quire at his table any taste for outlandish luxuries. His lord- 
 ship was always ready with some honourable apology why 
 foreign wines and French brandy — delicacies which he con- 
 ceived might sap the hardy habits of his cousins — should not 
 circulate past an assigned point on the table. 
 
 Note XIII. p. 198. — CoNAN the Jestek. 
 In the Irish ballads relating to Fion (the Fingal of Mac- 
 Pherson) there occurs, as in the primitive poetry of most 
 nations, a cycle of heroes, each of whom has some distinguish- 
 ing 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 
 distinguished 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 hav- 
 ing, 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 Qonan said to 
 the Devil. 
 
 Note XIV. p. 203. — Waterfall. 
 The description of the waterfall mentioned in this chapter is 
 taken from that of Ledeard, at the farm so called on the north- 
 ern 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 harp, as described, has been 
 justly censured as too theatrical and affected for the lady-Uke 
 simplicity of her character. But something may be allowed 
 to her French education, in which point and' striking effect 
 always make a considerable object. 
 
EDITOR'S NOTES. 
 
 (a) p. xvi. " Alexander the Corrector." This was a name 
 adopted by Cruden, the author of the well-known Concordance. 
 
 (6) p. xvi. " The chief enjo3anent of my holidays was to es- 
 cape with a chosen friend." Scott's companion, as his frag- 
 ment of Autobiography in Lockhart shows, was Mr. John 
 Irving, afterwards a Writer to the Signet. (Lockhart, i. 63.) 
 
 (c) p. xviii. " A temporary residence in the country." The 
 place referred to was Rosebank, a villa on the Tweed, near 
 Kelso. It was afterwards bequeathed to Scott by his uncle, 
 Captain Scott. (Lockhart, i. 174 ; ii. 187.) 
 
 (d) p. xxxi. " Letters on the Author of ' Waverley ' (1822)." 
 These were by Mr. Adolphus. Extracts from them are given 
 in Lockhart, vi. 386. 
 
 (e) p. ciii. "The 'Quarterly Review,' in 1817." This notice 
 was written by Scott, in conjunction with his friend Mr. 
 William Erskine. As his own correspondence and that of Mr. 
 Murray, the publisher, show, Scott offered to criticise his own 
 novels, as a proof that he had not written them. See Intro- 
 duction to " Old Mortality." The review is published in 
 Scott's Miscellaneous Prose Works. 
 
 (/) p. 19. " Alma." The allusion is to Prior's poem of 
 " Alma : the Vital Principle." In the first edition Scott says, 
 " Alma, when seated in his arms and legs," in accordance with 
 Prior's humorous theory. 
 
 To her next stage as Alma flies, 
 And likes, as I have said, the thighs, 
 With sympathetic power she warms 
 Their good allies and friends, the arms. 
 
 (g) p. 47. " The edition of Sweynheim and Pannartz." 
 This is "Histotiarum Romanarum decades ill., ex recognitione 
 
296 EDITOR'S NOTES. 
 
 Joan. Andrese, episc. alierensis. Romse : Conradus Sweyn- 
 heym et ArnoMus Pannartz. Folio." The date is believed to 
 be 1467. A copy was sold for £472 10s. at the sale of Sir 
 Mark Sykes, whom Scott succeeded as a member of the 
 Roxburghe Club. 
 
 (Ji) p. 66. Probably the old House of Traquair is as like 
 TuUy-Veolan as any surviving edifice, bears and all. The 
 avenue of Tully-Veolan resembles that of Kenmure Castle, 
 in Galloway. 
 
 (i) p. 79. " C'est des doux oreilles.'' So in the edition of 
 1829. " C'est des deux oreilles " is the reading in the first 
 edition, while Messrs. Black's edition of 1890 offers the reading 
 " c'est d'une oreille," which is correct. Cotgrave's Dictionary 
 (1611) is quoted for " ' k une oreille,' said of wine that 's excel- 
 lent good." Littre, "Vin d'une oreille = le bon vin." A 
 somewhat mythical explanation of the phrase is given in 
 the Dictionary of the French Academy. 
 
 (k) p. 82. The Baron of Bradwardine. There were doubt- 
 less many brave, scholarly old Scottish gentlemen like the 
 Baron, who " had fought the foreign loons in their own coun- 
 trie." Mr. Chambers ("Illustrations of the Author of 'Wa- 
 verley ' " ) mentions Col. Alexander Robertson, of the Struan 
 family, and John Stewart of Kincardine; but the fourth Lord 
 Forbes of Pitsligo, who was out in the Fifteen and the Forty- 
 five, had two bears as supporters of his shield ; so he, perhaps, 
 was as like the Baron as any of his compeers. 
 
 (0 p. 8j. "Ben Jonson's Tom Otter." In "The Silent 
 Woman," act iv. scene ii. 
 
 (m) p. 90. Suum cuique. The ingenious and unfortunate 
 author of " Vimonda" was a Scotch Episcopalian clergyman, 
 Andrew Mac-Donald. Scott's friend William Erskine (Lord 
 Kinedder) boarded at Mr. Mac-Donald's house when a boy. 
 (Lockhart, i. 279.) " Vimonda," though put on the stage, 
 did not prevent its author from dying in extreme poverty. 
 Scott as a boy had seen Mac-Donald in Mr. Sibbald's book- 
 shop, where he also saw Burns, " at a distance." (Lockhart, 
 i. 64.) 
 
 (ii) p. 94. Luckie Macleary throws her plaid over the 
 swords. This may have been suggested to Scott by a scene in 
 the " Eyrbyggja Saga," where a lady named Aud performs a 
 similar feat in a fray. Less fortunate than Luckie Macleary, 
 Aud lost a hand from a sword-stroke. Sir Walter published 
 
EDITOR'S NOTES. 297 
 
 an account of the "Eyrbyggja Saga" in 1813, when he was 
 engaged on " Waverley." As an illustration of Scotch conviv- 
 ial manners and of random sword-blows, we print an account 
 of the death of the Laird of Stewartfield, from a curious manu- 
 script diary in the possession of Mr. Charles Grieve, in Branx- 
 holme Park, the work of one of his ancestors. Scott has not 
 exaggerated the manners which he describes. 
 
 " The death of Stewartfield happened at a Head Court at 
 Jedburgh. The gentlemen at the meeting were all drunk, 
 and some quarrel arose between Sir of and Stewart- 
 field, and the latter was stabbed by a sword under the table. 
 There was a precognition taken, but no light could be thrown 
 
 on the matter. Sir 's servant carried his master off as 
 
 soon as he understood what had happened, and brought him to 
 the churchyard and laid him down upon a tombstone, where 
 he slept for some time, he covering him with a blanket. He 
 conveyed his horses to a distance, and after allowing him some 
 time to sleep off the drink, he waked him and conveyed him up 
 Rule Water, and he lay concealed in Waughope Wood till he 
 made his escape to Holland." 
 
 (0) p. 96. Dr. Johnson on Scotch breakfasts: " If au epi- 
 cure could remove by a wish in quest of sensual gratification, 
 wherever he had supped, he would breakfast in Scotland " 
 (Johnson's Works, ix. 52). 
 
 (p) p. 112. " A rhyme quoted by Edgar in ' King Lear,' " 
 act iii. scene iv. : — 
 
 ' ' Saint Withold footed thrice the wold ; 
 He met the Mght-mave and her nine-fold ; 
 Bid her alight, 
 And her troth plight. 
 And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee ! " 
 
 (q) p. 128. " The celebrated Belides." More frequently 
 called the Danaids, daughters of Danaus, who was the son of 
 Belus. Their punishment was to carry water in a sieve, and, 
 unlike the lad in the fairy tale, they had not the wit to daub 
 the sieve with clay. 
 
 (r) p. 207. Flora Mao-Ivor's song. 
 
 "Ye sous of brown Dermid, who slew the wild boar, 
 Resume the pure faith of the great Callum-More. " 
 
 There was no Callum-More ; the name is Mac Cailean Mohr. 
 Dermid should be Diarmaid, in Irish apparently Diarmuid. 
 
298 EDIXaR'S NOTES. 
 
 For the slaughter of the boar by the mythical father of the 
 Campbells, see " The Pursuit of Diarmuid and Grainne." 
 (Ossianic Society, Dublin, 1857.) The modern Irish have 
 anglicized Diarmuid as Jeremiah. 
 
 (s) p. 218. "The Pope's legate." See Mr. Hume Brown's 
 "Early Travellers in Scotland," p. xii. The legate visited 
 Scotland in 1543. "His name and identity are still a dis- 
 puted point, and he is variously known as Peter Francis Con- 
 tareno, Mark German, and Marcus Grynianus, Patriarch of 
 Aquileia. " 
 
 (0 p. 223. " A charm, which in English ran thus." The 
 charm, as given by Reginald Scott (1584), is, — 
 
 " Hall be thou, holie liearbe 
 
 Growing on the ground ; 
 
 All in the mount Calvarie 
 
 First wert thou found. 
 Thou art good for inanie a sore, 
 And healest manie a wound ; 
 In the name of sweete Jesus 
 I take thee from the ground." ' 
 
 The Discoverie of Witchcraft, book xii. 
 ch. xiv. (edition of 1886, p. 198). 
 
 (i() p. 266. "Whatever were the original rights of the 
 Stewarts." Scott has been accused of " blind Jacobitism." 
 The extent of his blindness may be estimated from Waverley's 
 reflections in this chapter. Scott was interested as an histo- 
 rian and as the descendant of " Auld Beardie " in the Jacobite 
 cause. He admired — as who does not 1 — the self-sacrificing 
 loyalty of the Highlanders, never so nobly displayed as after 
 Drumossie. He felt the poetic charm of the unhappy and 
 ungrateful House of Stewart. But his writings might be 
 searched in vain for even a sentimental approval of " plunging 
 a kingdom into all the miseries of civil war for the purpose of 
 replacing upon the throne the descendants of a monarch by 
 whom it had been wilfully forfeited." 
 
 (u) p. 268. " Oggam," generally spelled " Ogham," a sys- 
 tem of writing by means of lines incised, at various angles, on 
 the edges of a squared stone. The researches of Professor 
 Rhys do not support the Punic hypothesis of General Vallancey . 
 
 ()u) p. 271. "The sanguine Jacobites, during the eventful 
 years 1745-46, kept up the spirits of their party by the rumour 
 
EDITOR'S NOTES. 299 
 
 of descents from France on behalf of the Chevalier St. George." 
 See " Tom Jones," book xi. ch. vi. Mrs. Fitzpatrick asked 
 Honour " who wers come 1" "Who 1" answered she, " why, 
 the French; several hundred thousands of them are landed, 
 and we shall be all murdered and ravished." ..." Ay, ay," 
 quoth the landlord, smiling, "her ladyship knows better 
 things ; she knows the French are our very best friends, and 
 come over hither only for our good. They are the people who 
 are to make old England flourish again. . . . His Honour's 
 Majesty [Charles Edward], Heaven bless him, hath given the 
 duke the slip, and is marching as fast as he can to Lon- 
 don, and ten thousand French are landed to join him on the 
 road." 
 
 Andrew Lang. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 A', all. 
 
 Aboon, abune, above. 
 
 Aby, aijye, to suffer, to endure. 
 
 Ain, own. 
 
 Alane, alone. 
 
 An, if. 
 
 Aula, old. 
 
 Aweel, well. 
 
 Aye, always. 
 
 Bailie, alderman or magistrate. 
 
 Bawty, sly. 
 
 Baxter, balcer. 
 
 Belive, by-and-by, speedily. 
 
 " Bent, tak' the," to take to the 
 
 open country, to run away. 
 Bhaird, bard. 
 Bit (u,sed as a diminutive). 
 
 " Bit line," a letter. 
 Black-fishing, poaching. 
 Blinked, glanced. 
 Bluid, blood. 
 Bodle, a copper coin, — fraction 
 
 of an English penny. 
 Brae, rising ground. 
 Ereeks, breeches. 
 Brogues, Highland shoes. 
 Browst, brewing ; as much as 
 
 is brewed at one time. 
 Bruik, to enjoy. 
 BuUsegg, a half-gelded bull. 
 Buttock-mail, church penance 
 
 for incontinency. 
 Bydand, awaiting. 
 
 Cailliachs, old women. 
 
 Gallant, a young lad, a fine 
 fellow. 
 
 Canny, skilful, prudent, lucky ; 
 in a superstitious sense, good- 
 conditioned, and safe to deal 
 with ; trustworthy. 
 
 Cantrip, spell, incantation, 
 charm. 
 
 Carle, a churl, a gruff old man. 
 
 Cateran, kearn. Highland ir- 
 regular soldier, freebooter. 
 
 Clachan, a hamlet. 
 
 " Claw favour," to curry favour. 
 
 Cleek, hook. 
 
 Cogue, cogie, a round wooden 
 vessel for holding milk, brose, 
 etc. 
 
 Coronach, dirge. 
 
 Corrie, a mountain hollow. 
 
 Cove, cave. 
 
 Crames, booths. 
 
 Creagh, a Highland foray, a raid. 
 
 Crummy, a crooked-horned cow. 
 
 Cuittle, to tickle. To "cuittle 
 favour " means to curry favour. 
 
 Curragh, a Highland boat or 
 skiff. 
 
 Daft, mad, frolicsome. 
 
 Decreet, order of decree. 
 
 " Deil's buokie," devil's scamp. 
 
 " Deoch an doruis," the stirrup- 
 cup, the parting drink. 
 
 Dern, <i concealed, secret spot : 
 gloomy, dismal. 
 
 Dinmonts, wethers between one 
 and two years old, or that have 
 not been twice shorn. 
 
 Doer, a steward. 
 
 Doon, down. 
 
 Dovering, dozing, half asleep. 
 
 Dunniewasaal (or duinh^- 
 ■wassel), a Highland gen- 
 tleman, generally the cadet of 
 a family of rank, and who re- 
 ceived his title from the land 
 he occupied, though held at 
 will of his chieftain. 
 
302 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Eneugh, enough. 
 
 Factory, stewardship. 
 
 " Far ben," in particular favour, 
 
 very intimate. 
 "Peal and divot," turf and 
 
 thatch. 
 Feifteen, the Jacobite rebellion 
 
 of 1715. 
 Fendy, clever in providing. 
 Flemit, frightened. 
 Foun, fun. 
 Frae, from. 
 Fu', full. 
 Fule, fool. 
 
 Gane, gone. 
 
 Ganging, going. 
 
 Gangs, goes. 
 
 Gate, way, direction. 
 
 Gaun, going. 
 
 Gear, property. 
 
 Gillie, a Highland man-servant. 
 
 Gimmer, a two-year-old ewe. 
 
 Glisked, glimpsed. 
 
 Gripple, rapacious. 
 
 Gulpin, a simpleton. 
 
 Ha', hall. 
 
 Hail, whole. 
 
 HaUan, the partition between 
 
 the door of a cottage and the 
 
 fireplace. 
 Hame, home. 
 Hantle, a good many, " great 
 
 deal. 
 Harst, harvest. 
 Hership, plunder. 
 Hilding, a coward. 
 Hog, a sheep from six to fifteen 
 
 months old. 
 Horning, enforcing payment of 
 
 a debt. 
 Houlerying and poulerying, 
 
 hustling and pulling. 
 Howe, hollow. 
 Hurley-house, a broken-down 
 
 manor-house. 
 Ilk, of the same name. " Brad- 
 
 wardine of that Ilk " = Brad- 
 
 wardine of Bradwardine. 
 " In the bees," stupefied. 
 Intromit, to meddle with. 
 
 Justified, died in a good cause. 
 
 Ken, know. 
 
 Kilt, the philabeg or short petti- 
 coat of a Highlander. 
 Kittle, tickle, ticklish. 
 Kyloe, a small Highland cow. 
 
 Jliaird, lord of a manor, squire. 
 Lawing, a tavern reckoning. 
 Iiee land, grass or meadow land. 
 Lilted, made a prey of, captured. 
 Limmer, a jade, a loose woman. 
 Iioon, an idle fellow, a rogue, a 
 
 rustic boy. 
 Luckie, dame. 
 Lug, the ear. 
 Lunzie, waist. 
 
 Mae, more. 
 
 Mains, demesne, farmhouse. 
 
 Mair, more. 
 
 " Mair tint at Sheriffmuir," 
 more men lost at the battle of 
 Sheriffmuir. 
 
 " Malt abune the meal," the 
 drink above the food, half-seas 
 over. 
 
 Mearns, Kincardineshire. 
 
 Meikle, mickle, much, great, 
 large, big, pre-eminent. 
 
 Mark = 13j d. English money. 
 
 Misguggled, mangled and dis- 
 figured. 
 
 " Mister wight," child of neces- 
 sity, doubtful character. 
 
 Mony, many. 
 
 Morn, " the morn," to-morrow. 
 
 Morning, a morning dram, or 
 draught, 
 
 Muir, moor. 
 
 Na, nae, no, not. 
 
 Nainsell, ownself. 
 
 Napry, table linen. 
 
 Nolt, oxen, black cattle. 
 
 " Old to do," more than enough 
 
 to do. 
 Ony, any. 
 Orra, odd, unemployed. 
 
 Pingle, a fuss. 
 Fleuish, to provide. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 303 
 
 Ploy, spoi-t, entertainment. 
 Public, public-house, inn. 
 Pund Scots = l.s. 8d. English 
 money. 
 
 Keif, rief, robbery. 
 Keiver, riever, robber. 
 Kiggs, fields. 
 Kokelay, short cloak. 
 Eudas, rough, cantankerous. 
 Kunt, an old, worn-out cow ; also, 
 the stalk of colewort or cabbage. 
 
 Sain, to bless against evil influ- 
 ence; literally, to sign with 
 the sign of the cross. 
 
 Sair, sore, very. 
 
 Saumon, salmon. 
 
 Saut, salt. 
 
 Say, a sample. 
 
 Schellum, a low, worthless 
 fellow. 
 
 Seannaohie, Highland an- 
 tiquary. 
 
 Shearing, the reaping. 
 
 ShUpit, weak, washy, insipid. 
 
 Shoon, shoes. 
 
 " Sic a," "siooan a," such a. 
 
 " Sidier roy," red-coated sol- 
 diers. 
 
 Siller, money. 
 
 Simmer, summer. 
 
 Sliver, slit, slice. 
 
 Smoky, suspicious, doubtful. 
 
 Sneck, a latch. 
 
 Snood, a young woman's maiden 
 fillet for tying round her head. 
 
 Sopite, to quiet a brawl. 
 
 Sorners, sojourners, sturdy beg- 
 gars, obtrusive guests who 
 pleaded privilege, and were 
 not easily got rid of, at least 
 in the Highlands, where the 
 Acts of Parliament against 
 them were not enforced. 
 
 Sorted, arranged. 
 
 Speirs, asks. 
 
 Sporran-mollaoh, the goat-skin 
 purse of the Highlanders. 
 
 Spring, a merry tune. 
 
 Spuilzie, spoil. 
 
 Stieve, stiff. 
 
 Stirk, a young steer or heifer. 
 
 Stot, a bullock. 
 
 Stoup, a flagon, a pitcher, a 
 
 jug. 
 Stouthrief, robbery. 
 Strae, straw. 
 Strath, a valley through which 
 
 a river runs. 
 Sybo, a species of onion or 
 
 radish. 
 
 Taiglit, drooping and dis- 
 ordered. 
 
 Tailzie, taillie, a deed of entail. 
 
 Tappit-hen, a tin pot with a 
 knob on the top, containing a 
 quart of ale. 
 
 Telt, told. 
 
 Till, to; till't, to it. 
 
 Toun, hamlet, precincts of a 
 manor. 
 
 Trews, close trousers. 
 
 Trow, to believe, to suppose. 
 
 Twa, two. 
 
 Tyke, a dog, a snarling fellow. 
 
 Unkenn'd, unknown. 
 Untill, unto, till. 
 Usquebaugh, whiskj'. 
 
 Vaiselle, vessels. 
 Vilipend, to hold of no conse- 
 quence. 
 
 Wa', wall. 
 
 Wee, little. 
 
 Weel, well. 
 
 Whar, where. 
 
 " "What for," why. 
 
 "Whilk, which. 
 
 "Wi', with. 
 
 Wiske, a quick stroke or motion. 
 
 "Wot, to know. 
 
 Yon, there, yonder, beyond. 
 
 END OF VOLUME I. 
 
BALLANTYNE PRESS 
 
 PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. 
 
 EDINBURGH AND LONDON