Waverley

S >> Sir Walter Scott >> Waverley


Mr. Pembroke only wrote to our hero one letter, but it was of the bulk
of six epistles of these degenerate days, containing, in the moderate
compass of ten folio pages, closely written, a precis of a supplementary
quarto manuscript of ADDENDA, DELENDA, ET CORRIGENDA, in reference to
the two tracts with which he had presented Waverley. This he considered
as a mere sop in the pan to stay the appetite of Edward's curiosity,
until he should find an opportunity of sending down the volume itself,
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
literary correspondence, in virtue of which the library shelves of
Waverley-Honour were loaded with much trash, and a good round bill,
seldom summed in fewer than three figures, was yearly transmitted, in
which Sir Everard Waverley, of Waverley-Honour, Bart., was marked Dr.
to Jonathan Grubbet, bookseller and stationer, Little Britain. Such had
hitherto been the style of the letters which Edward had received from
England; but the packet delivered to him at Glennaquoich was of a
different and more interesting complexion. It would be impossible
for the reader, even were I to insert the letters at full length, to
comprehend the real cause of their being written, without a glance into
the interior of the British Cabinet at the period in question.

The Ministers of the day happened (no very singular event) to be divided
into two parties; the weakest of which, making up by assiduity of
intrigue their inferiority in real consequence, had of late acquired
some new proselytes, and with them the hope of superseding their rivals
in the favour of their sovereign, and overpowering them in the House
of Commons. Amongst others, they had thought it worth while to practise
upon Richard 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 prevented the inanity of his orations from being discovered, had
acquired a certain name and credit in public life, and even established,
with many, the character of a profound politician; none of your shining
orators, indeed, whose talents evaporate in tropes of rhetoric and
dashes of wit, but one possessed 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 common and everyday use, since they were
confessedly formed of no holiday texture.

This faith had become so general, that the insurgent party in the
Cabinet of which we have made mention, after sounding Mr. Richard
Waverley, were so satisfied with his sentiments and abilities, as to
propose, that, in case of a certain revolution in the ministry, he
should take an ostensible place in the new 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 ambition was blighted in the very bud,
by a premature movement. All the official gentlemen concerned in it,
who hesitated to take the part of a voluntary resignation, were informed
that the king had no further occasion for their services; and, in
Richard Waverley's case, which the Minister considered as aggravated
by ingratitude; dismissal was accompanied 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 statesman; and he retired to the country under the
comfortable reflection, that he had lost, at the same time, character,
credit, and,--what he at least equally deplored,--emolument.

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

Accordingly, the next letter which Edward opened was from Sir Everard.
His brother's disgrace seemed to have removed from his well-natured
bosom all recollection of their differences, and, remote as he was from
every means of learning that Richard's disgrace was in reality only the
just, as well as natural consequence, of his own unsuccessful intrigues,
the good but credulous Baronet at once set it down as a new and enormous
instance of the injustice of the existing Government. It was true, he
said, and he must not disguise it even from Edward, that his father
could not have sustained such an insult as was now, for the first time,
offered to one of his house, unless he had subjected himself to it by
accepting of an employment under the present system. Sir Everard had no
doubt that he now both saw and felt the magnitude of this error, and it
should be his (Sir Everard's) business, to take care that the cause of
his regret should not extend itself to pecuniary consequences. It
was enough for a Waverley to have sustained the public disgrace; the
patrimonial injury could easily be obviated by the head of their family.
But it was both the opinion of Mr. Richard Waverley and his own, that
Edward, the representative of the family of Waverley-Honour, should not
remain in a situation which subjected him also to such treatment as
that with which his father had been stigmatized. He requested his nephew
therefore to take the fittest, and, at the same time, the most speedy
opportunity, of transmitting his resignation to the War-Office, and
hinted, moreover, that little ceremony was necessary where so little had
been used to his father. He sent multitudinous greetings to the Baron of
Bradwardine.

A letter from Aunt Rachel spoke out even more plainly. She considered
the disgrace of brother Richard as the just reward of his forfeiting his
allegiance to a lawful, though exiled sovereign, and taking the oaths
to an alien; a concession which her grandfather, Sir Nigel Waverley,
refused to make, either to the Roundhead Parliament or to Cromwell, when
his life and fortune stood in the utmost extremity. She hoped her dear
Edward would follow the footsteps of his ancestors, and as speedily as
possible get rid of the badge of servitude to the usurping family, and
regard the wrongs sustained by his father as an admonition from Heaven,
that every desertion of the line of loyalty becomes its own punishment.
She also concluded with her respects to Mr. Bradwardine, and begged
Waverley would inform her whether his daughter, Miss Rose, was old
enough to wear a pair of very handsome ear-rings, which she proposed
to send as a token of her affection. The good lady also desired to be
informed whether Mr. Bradwardine took as much Scotch snuff, and danced
as unweariedly, as he 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 actively
engaged. Indeed, any impressions which he had accidentally adopted
concerning the parties of the times, were (owing to the society in which
he had lived at Waverley-Honour) of a nature rather unfavourable to
the existing government and dynasty. He entered, therefore, without
hesitation, into the resentful feeling of the relations who had the best
title to dictate his conduct; and not perhaps the less willingly, when
he remembered 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 following
letter from his commanding-officer, which, as it is very short, shall be
inserted verbatim:--

'SIR,

'Having carried somewhat beyond the line of my duty an indulgence which
even the lights of nature, and much more those of Christianity, direct
towards errors which may arise from youth and inexperience, and that
altogether without effect, I am reluctantly compelled, at the present
crisis, to use the only remaining remedy which is in my power. You are
therefore, hereby commanded to repair to--, the head-quarters of the
regiment, within three days after the date of this letter. If you shall
fail to do so, I must report you to the War-Office as absent without
leave, and also take other steps, which will be disagreeable to you, as
well as to, Sir,

'Your obedient Servant,

'J. GARDINER, Lieut.-Col.

'Commanding the--Regt. Dragoons.'

Edward's blood boiled within him as he read this letter. He had been
accustomed from his very infancy to possess, in a great measure, the
disposal of his own time, and thus acquired 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 induced his commanding-officer, without any other
warning than the hints we noticed at the end of the fourteenth chapter,
so suddenly to assume a harsh, and, 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 concerted scheme to depress and degrade every member 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 have chosen to efface the remembrance of them, by assuming a
different tone towards him. The strain of his letter, as well as what
he (Edward) conceived to be his duty, in the present crisis, called upon
him to lay down his commission; and he therefore enclosed the 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 ascendancy over the mind of Waverley. Endowed
with at least equal powers of understanding, and with much finer genius,
Edward yet stooped to the bold and decisive activity of an intellect
which was sharpened by the habit of acting on a preconceived and regular
system, as well as by extensive 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
embarrassment of one who has unpleasing news to communicate. 'Do your
letters, Captain Waverley, 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 journal. At the end of the paragraph was this remarkable
innuendo:--

'We understand, that "this same RICHARD, who hath done all this," is
not the only example of the WAVERING HONOUR of W-v-rl-y H-n-r. See the
GAZETTE of this day.'

With hurried and feverish apprehension our hero turned to the place
referred to, and found therein recorded, 'Edward Waverley, captain
in--regiment dragoons, superseded for absence without leave:' and in
the list of military promotions, referring to the same regiment, he
discovered this further article, 'Lieut. Julius Butler, to be captain,
vice Edward Waverley, superseded.'

Our hero's bosom glowed with the resentment which undeserved and
apparently premeditated insult was calculated to excite in the bosom
of one who had aspired after honour, and was thus wantonly held up to
public scorn and disgrace. Upon comparing the date of his colonel's
letter with that of the article in the GAZETTE, he perceived that his
threat of making a report upon his absence had been literally fulfilled,
and without inquiry, as it seemed, whether Edward had either received
his summons, or was disposed to comply with it. The whole, therefore,
appeared a formed plan to degrade him in the eyes of the public; and the
idea of its 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 indifferent to the wrongs
of his friends; and for Edward, independent of certain plans with which
he was connected, he felt a deep and sincere interest. The proceeding
appeared as extraordinary to him as it had done to Edward. He indeed
knew of more motives than Waverley was privy to, for the peremptory
order that he should join his regiment. But that, without further
inquiry into the circumstances of a necessary delay, the commanding
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
present case, I doubt if your commanding-officer would give you the
meeting on account of his having taken measures, which, however harsh
and exasperating, were still within the strict bounds of his duty.
Besides, Gardiner is a precise Huguenot, and has adopted certain
ideas about the sinfulness of such rencontres, from which it would be
impossible to make him depart, especially as his courage is beyond
all suspicion. And besides, I--I--to say the truth--I dare not at this
moment, for some very weighty reasons, go near any of the military
quarters or garrisons belonging to this government.'

'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 grandfather 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 generations 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 commissions under them, and thus have given
them an opportunity of disgracing us publicly by resuming 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 Stuart family become less just, because their title has
devolved upon an heir who is innocent of the charges of misgovernment
brought against his father? Do you remember 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.

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 postcript 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 dispatched 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 ECLAIRCISSEMENT

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 ensured by the proposed union; and his heart swelled when he
considered how his own interest would be exalted in the eyes of the
ex-monarch to whom he had dedicated his service, by an alliance with one
of those ancient, powerful, and wealthy English families of the steady
Cavalier faith, to awaken whose decayed attachment to the Stuart family
was now a matter of such vital importance to the Stuart cause. Nor could
Fergus perceive any obstacle to such a scheme. Waverley's attachment
was evident; and as his person was handsome, and his taste apparently
coincided with her own, he anticipated no opposition on the part of
Flora. Indeed, between his ideas of patriarchal power, and those
which he had acquired in France respecting the disposal of females in
marriage, any opposition from his sister, dear as she was to him, would
have been the last obstacle on which he would have calculated, even had
the union been less eligible.

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

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

'And who is the fair lady, may I be permitted to ask, Miss Mac-Ivor?'

'Did not I tell you long since, that Fergus wooed no bride but Honour?'
answered Flora.

'And am I then incapable of being his assistant and 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

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 adventurer had well weighed
the justice and the danger of the cause, Fergus. Mr. Waverley is just
now too much agitated by feelings of recent emotion, for me to press
upon him a resolution of consequence.'

Waverley felt half alarmed at the thought of adopting the badge of what
was by the majority of the kingdom esteemed rebellion, yet he could
not disguise his chagrin at the coldness with which Flora parried her
brother's hint. 'Miss Mac-Ivor, I perceive, thinks the knight unworthy
of her encouragement and favour,' said he, somewhat bitterly.

'Not so, Mr. Waverley,' she replied, with great sweetness. 'Why should I
refuse my brother's valued friend a boon which I am distributing to his
whole clan? Most willingly would I enlist every man of honour in the
cause to which my brother has devoted himself. But Fergus has taken his
measures with his eyes open. His life has been devoted to this cause
from his cradle; with him its call is sacred, were it even a summons to
the tomb. But how can I wish you, Mr. Waverley, so new to the world, so
far from every friend who might advise and ought to influence you,--in
a moment too of sudden pique and indignation,--how can I wish you to
plunge yourself at once into so desperate an enterprise?'

Fergus, who did not understand these delicacies, strode through the
apartment biting his lip, and then, with a 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 unjust,' she said, 'because he can bear no interruption
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
preparation, and the infinite detail necessary to the present
undertaking, beyond consideration of the grand principles of justice and
truth, on which our enterprise is grounded; and these, I am certain, can
only be furthered by measures in themselves true and just. To operate
upon your present feelings, my dear Mr. Waverley, to induce you to an
irretrievable step, of which you have not considered either the justice
or the danger, is, in my poor judgement, neither the one nor the other.'

'Incomparable Flora!' said Edward, taking her hand, 'how much do I need
such a monitor!'

'A better one by far,' said Flora, gently withdrawing her 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 thousand 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'--