Waverley

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Callum came with his usual alertness; and, indeed, Waverley rather
gained than lost in the opinion of the Highlanders, by his anxiety about
the wounded man. They would not have understood the general philanthropy
which rendered it almost impossible for Waverley to have passed any
person in such distress; but, as apprehending that the sufferer was one
of his following, [SCOTTICE for followers.] they unanimously allowed
that Waverley's conduct was that of a kind and considerate chieftain,
who merited the attachment of his people. In about a quarter of an
hour poor Humphry breathed his last, praying his young master, when
he returned to Waverley-Honour, to be kind to old Job Houghton and
his dame, and conjuring him not to fight with these wild petticoat-men
against old England.

When his last breath was drawn, Waverley, who had beheld with sincere
sorrow, and no slight tinge of remorse, the final agonies of mortality,
now witnessed for the first time, commanded Callum to remove the body
into the hut. This the young Highlander performed, not without examining
the pockets of the defunct, which, however, he remarked, had been
pretty well spung'd. He took the cloak, however, and proceeding with the
provident caution of a spaniel hiding a bone, concealed it among some
furze, and carefully marked the spot, observing that, if he chanced to
return that way, it would be an excellent rokelay for his auld mother
Elspat.

It was by a considerable exertion that they regained their place in the
marching column, which was now moving rapidly forward to occupy the high
grounds above the village of Tranent, between which and the sea, lay the
purposed march of the opposite army.

This melancholy interview with his late sergeant forced many unavailing
and painful reflections upon Waverley's mind. It was clear, from the
confession of the man, that Colonel Gardiner's proceedings had been
strictly warranted, and even rendered indispensable, by the steps taken
in Edward's name to induce the soldiers of his troop to mutiny. The
circumstance of the seal, he now, for the first time, recollected, and
that he had lost it in the cavern of the robber, Bean Lean. That the
artful villain had secured it, and used it as the means of carrying
on an intrigue in the regiment, for his own purposes, was sufficiently
evident, and Edward had now little doubt that in the packet placed in
his portmanteau by his daughter, he should find further light upon
his proceedings. In the meanwhile, the repeated expostulation of
Houghton,--'Ah, squire, why did you leave us?' rang like a knell in his
ears.

'Yes,' he said, 'I have indeed acted towards you with thoughtless
cruelty. I brought you from your paternal fields, and the protection of
a generous and kind landlord, and when I had subjected you to all the
rigour of military discipline, I shunned to bear my own share of the
burden, and wandered from the duties I had undertaken, leaving alike
those whom it was my business to protect, and my own reputation, to
suffer under the artifices of villany. O indolence and indecision of
mind! if not in yourselves vices, to how much exquisite misery and
mischief do you frequently prepare the way!'



CHAPTER XLVI

THE EVE OF BATTLE

Although the Highlanders marched on very fast, the sun was declining
when they arrived upon the brow of those high grounds which command an
open and extensive plain stretching northward to the sea, on which are
situated, but at a considerable distance from each other, the small
villages of Seaton and Cockenzie, and the larger one of Preston. One of
the low coast-roads to Edinburgh passed through this plain, issuing upon
it from the enclosures of Seaton-house, and at the town or village of
Preston again entering the defiles of an enclosed country. By this way
the English general had chosen to approach the metropolis, both as most
commodious for his cavalry, and being probably of opinion that, by doing
so, he would meet in front with the Highlanders advancing from Edinburgh
in the opposite direction. In this he was mistaken; for the sound
judgement of the Chevalier, or of those to whose advice he listened,
left the direct passage free, but occupied the strong ground by which it
was overlooked and commanded.

When the Highlanders reached the heights above the plain described, they
were immediately formed in army of battle along the brow of the hill.
Almost at the same instant the van of the English appeared issuing from
among the trees and enclosures of Seaton, with the purpose of occupying
the level plain between the high ground and the sea; the space which
divided the armies being only about half a mile in breadth. Waverley
could plainly see the squadrons of dragoons issue, one after another,
from the defiles, with their videttes in front, and form upon the
plain, with their front opposed to that of the Prince's army. They were
followed by a train of field-pieces, which, when they reached the flank
of the dragoons, were also brought into line, and pointed against the
heights. The march was continued by three or four regiments of infantry
marching in open column, their fixed bayonets showing like successive
hedges of steel, and their arms glancing like lightning, as, at a
signal given, they also at once wheeled up, and were placed in direct
opposition to the Highlanders. A second train of artillery, with another
regiment of horse, closed the long march, and formed on the left flank
of the infantry, the whole line facing southward.

While the English army went through these evolutions, the Highlanders
showed equal promptitude and zeal for battle. As fast as the clans came
upon the ridge which fronted their enemy, they were formed into line, so
that both armies got into complete order of battle at the same moment.
When this was accomplished, the Highlanders set up a tremendous yell,
which was re-echoed by the heights behind them. The regulars, who were
in high spirits, returned a loud shout of defiance, and fired one or
two of their cannon upon an advanced post of the Highlanders. The latter
displayed great earnestness to proceed instantly to the attack, Evan Dhu
urging to Fergus, by way of argument, that 'the SIDIER ROY was tottering
like an egg upon a staff, and that they had a' the vantage of the onset,
for even a haggis (God bless her!) could charge down hill.'

But the ground through which the mountaineers must have descended,
although not of great extent, was impracticable in its character, being
not only marshy, but intersected with walls of dry-stone, and traversed
in its whole length by a very broad and deep ditch, circumstances which
must have given the musketry of the regulars dreadful advantages, before
the mountaineers could have used their swords, on which they were taught
to rely. The authority of the commanders was therefore interposed to
curb the impetuosity of the Highlanders, and only a few marksmen were
sent down the descent to skirmish with the enemy's advanced posts, and
to reconnoitre the ground.

Here, then, was a military spectacle of no ordinary interest, or usual
occurrence. The two armies, so different in aspect and discipline,
yet each admirably trained in its own peculiar mode of war, upon whose
conflict the temporary fate at least of Scotland appeared to depend, now
faced each other like two gladiators in the arena, each meditating
upon the mode of attacking their enemy. The leading officers, and the
general's staff of each army, could be distinguished in front of their
lines, busied with spy-glasses to watch each other's motions, and
occupied in dispatching the orders and receiving the intelligence
conveyed, by the aides-de-camp and orderly men, who gave life to the
scene by galloping along in different directions as if the fate of
the day depended upon the speed of their horses. The space between the
armies was at times occupied by the partial and irregular contests of
individual sharpshooters, and a hat or bonnet was occasionally seen to
fall, as a wounded man was borne off by his comrades. These, however,
were but trifling skirmishes, for it suited the views of neither
party to advance in that direction. From the neighbouring hamlets, the
peasantry cautiously showed themselves, as if watching the issue of
the expected engagement; and at no great distance in the bay were two
square-rigged vessels, bearing the English flag, whose tops and yards
were crowded with less timid spectators.

When this awful pause had lasted for a short time, Fergus, with another
chieftain, received orders to detach their clans towards the village of
Preston, in order to threaten the right flank of Cope's army, and compel
him to a change of position. To enable him to execute these orders, the
Chief of Glennaquoich occupied the churchyard of Tranent, a commanding
situation, and a convenient place, as Evan Dhu remarked, 'for any
gentleman who might have the misfortune to be killed, and chanced to be
curious about Christian burial.' To check or dislodge this party, the
English general detached two guns escorted by a strong party of cavalry.
They approached so near, that Waverley could plainly recognize the
standard of the troop he had formerly commanded, and hear the trumpets
and kettledrums sound the signal of advance, which he had so often
obeyed. He could hear, too, the well-known word given in the
English dialect, by the equally well-distinguished voice of the
commanding-officer, for whom he had once felt so much respect. It was
at that instant, that, looking around him, he saw the wild dress and
appearance of his Highland associates, heard their whispers in an
uncouth and unknown language, looked upon his own dress, so unlike that
which he had worn from his infancy, and wished to awake from what seemed
at the moment a dream, strange, horrible, and unnatural. 'Good God!' he
muttered, 'am I then a traitor to my country, a renegade to my standard,
and a foe, as that poor dying wretch expressed himself, to my native
England?'

Ere he could digest or smother the recollection, the tall military
form of his late commander came full in view, for the purpose of
reconnoitring. 'I can hit him now,' said Callum, cautiously raising his
fusee over the wall under which he lay couched, at scarce sixty yards'
distance.

Edward felt as if he was about to see a parricide committed in his
presence; for the venerable grey hair and striking countenance of the
veteran recalled the almost paternal respect with which his officers
universally regarded him. But ere he could say 'Hold!' an aged
Highlander, who lay beside Callum Beg, stopped his arm. 'Spare your
shot,' said the seer, 'his hour is not yet come. But let him beware of
to-morrow.--I see his winding-sheet high upon his breast.'

Callum, flint to other considerations, was penetrable to superstition.
He turned pale at the words of the TAISHATR, and recovered his piece.
Colonel Gardiner, unconscious of the danger he had escaped, turned his
horse round, and rode slowly back to the front of his regiment.

By this time the regular army had assumed a new line, with one flank
inclined towards the sea, and the other resting upon the village of
Preston; and as similar difficulties occurred in attacking their new
position, Fergus and the rest of the detachment were recalled to their
former post. This alteration created the necessity of a corresponding
change in General Cope's army, which was again brought into a line
parallel with that of the Highlanders. In these manoeuvres on both sides
the daylight was nearly consumed, and both armies prepared to rest upon
their arms for the night in the lines which they respectively occupied.

'There will be nothing done to-night,' said Fergus to his friend
Waverley. 'Ere we wrap ourselves in our plaids, let us go see what the
Baron is doing in the rear of the line.'

When they approached his post, they found the good old careful officer,
after having sent out his night patrols, and posted his sentinels,
engaged in reading the Evening Service of the Episcopal Church to the
remainder of his troop. His voice was loud and sonorous, and though his
spectacles upon his nose, and the appearance of Saunders Saunderson,
in military array, performing the functions of clerk, had something
ludicrous, yet the circumstances of danger in which they stood, the
military costume of the audience, and the appearance of their horses,
saddled and picketed behind them, gave an impressive and solemn effect
to the office of devotion.

'I have confessed to-day, ere you were awake,' whispered Fergus to
Waverley; 'yet I am not so strict a Catholic as to refuse to join in
this good man's prayers.'

Edward assented, and they remained till the Baron had concluded the
service.

As he shut the book, 'Now, lads,' said he, 'have at them in the morning,
with heavy hands and light consciences.' He then kindly greeted Mac-Ivor
and Waverley, who requested to know his opinion of their situation.
'Why, you know, Tacitus saith, "IN REBUS BELLICIS MAXIME DOMINATUR
FORTUNA," which is equiponderate with our vernacular adage, "Luck can
maist in the mellee." But credit me, gentlemen, yon man is not a deacon
o' his craft. He damps the spirits of the poor lads he commands, by
keeping them on the defensive, whilk of itself implies inferiority or
fear. Now will they lie on their arms yonder, as anxious and as ill at
ease as a toad under a harrow, while our men will be quite fresh and
blithe for action in the morning. Well, goodnight.--One thing troubles
me, but if to-morrow goes well off, I will consult you about it,
Glennaquoich.'--

'I could almost apply to Mr. Bradwardine the character which Henry gives
of Fluellen,' said Waverley, as his friend and he walked towards their
BIVOUAC:

Though it appears a little out of fashion,
There is much care and valour in this 'Scotchman.'

'He has seen much service,' answered Fergus, 'and one is sometimes
astonished to find how much nonsense and reason are mingled in his
composition, I wonder what can be troubling his mind--probably something
about Rose.--Hark! the English are setting their watch.'

The roll of the drum and shrill accompaniment of the fifes swelled up
the hill-died away--resumed its thunder--and was at length hushed. The
trumpets and kettledrums of the cavalry were next heard to perform the
beautiful and wild point of war appropriated as a signal for that piece
of nocturnal duty, and then finally sank upon the wind with a shrill and
mournful cadence.

The friends, who had now reached their post, stood and looked round them
ere they lay down to rest. The western sky twinkled with stars, but
a frost-mist, rising from the ocean, covered the eastern horizon, and
rolled in white wreaths along the plain where the adverse army lay
couched upon their arms. Their advanced posts were pushed as far as the
side of the great ditch at the bottom of the descent, and had kindled
large fires at different intervals, gleaming with obscure and hazy
lustre through the heavy fog which encircled them with a doubtful halo.

The Highlanders, 'thick as leaves in Vallombrosa,' lay stretched upon
the ridge of the hill, buried (excepting their sentinels) in the most
profound repose. 'How many of these brave fellows will sleep more
soundly before to-morrow night, Fergus!' said Waverley, with an
involuntary sigh.

'You must not think of that,' answered Fergus, whose ideas were entirely
military. 'You must only think of your sword, and by whom it was given.
All other reflections are now TOO LATE.'

With the opiate contained in this undeniable remark, Edward endeavoured
to lull the tumult of his conflicting feelings. The Chieftain and he,
combining their plaids, made a comfortable and warm couch. Callum,
sitting down at their head (for it was his duty to watch upon the
immediate person of the Chief), began a long mournful song in Gaelic, to
a low and uniform tune, which, like the sound of the wind at a distance,
soon lulled them to sleep.



CHAPTER XLVII

THE CONFLICT

When Fergus Mac-Ivor and his friend had slept for a few hours, they were
awakened, and summoned to attend the Prince. The distant village-clock
was heard to toll three as they hastened to the place where he lay.
He was already surrounded by his principal officers and the chiefs of
clans. A bundle of peas-straw, which had been lately his couch, now
served for his seat. Just as Fergus reached the circle, the consultation
had broken up. 'Courage, my brave friends!' said the Chevalier, 'and
each one put himself instantly at the head of his command; a faithful
friend [See Note 26.] has offered to guide us by a practicable, though
narrow and circuitous route, which, sweeping to our right, traverses
the broken ground and morass, and enables us to gain the firm and open
plain, upon which the enemy are lying. This difficulty surmounted,
Heaven and your good swords must do the rest.'

The proposal spread unanimous joy, and each leader hastened to get his
men into order with as little noise as possible. The army, moving by
its right from off the ground on which they had rested, soon entered the
path through the morass, conducting their march with astonishing silence
and great rapidity. The mist had not risen to the higher grounds, so
that for some time they had the advantage of starlight. But this was
lost as the stars faded before approaching day, and the head of the
marching column, continuing its descent, plunged as it were into the
heavy ocean of fog, which rolled its white waves over the whole plain,
and over the sea by which it was bounded. Some difficulties were now to
be encountered, inseparable from darkness,--a narrow, broken, and
marshy path, and the necessity of preserving union in the march. These,
however, were less inconvenient to Highlanders, from their habits of
life, than they would have been to any other troops, and they continued
a steady and swift movement.

As the clan of Ivor approached the firm ground, following the track of
those who preceded them, the challenge of a patrol was heard through the
mist, though they could not see the dragoon by whom it was made--'Who
goes there?'

'Hush!' cried Fergus, 'hush!--Let none answer, as he values his
life.--Press forward!' and they continued their march with silence and
rapidity.

The patrol fired his carabine upon the body, and the report was
instantly followed by the clang of his horse's feet as he galloped off.
'HYLAX IN LIMINE LATRAT,' said the Baron of Bradwardine, who heard the
shot; 'that loon will give the alarm.'

The clan of Fergus had now gained the firm plain, which had lately borne
a large crop of corn. But the harvest was gathered in, and the expense
was unbroken by tree, bush, or interruption of any kind. The rest of the
army were following fast, when they heard the drums of the enemy beat
the general. Surprise, however, had made no part of their plan, so they
were not disconcerted by this intimation that the foe was upon his guard
and prepared to receive them. It only hastened their dispositions for
the combat, which were very simple.

The Highland army, which now occupied the eastern end of the wide plain,
or stubble field, so often referred to, was drawn up in two lines,
extending from the morass towards the sea. The first was destined to
charge the enemy, the second to act as a reserve. The few horse,
whom the Prince headed in person, remained between the two lines. The
Adventurer had intimated a resolution to charge in person at the head of
his first line; but his purpose was deprecated by all around him, and he
was with difficulty induced to abandon it.

Both lines were now moving forward, the first prepared for instant
combat. The clans of which it was composed, formed each a sort of
separate phalanx, narrow in front, and in depth ten, twelve, or fifteen
files, according to the strength of the following. The best armed and
best born, for the words were synonymous, were placed in front of each
of these irregular subdivisions. The others in the rear shouldered
forward the front, and by their pressure added both physical impulse,
and additional ardour and confidence, to those who were first to
encounter the danger.

'Down with your plaid, Waverley,' cried Fergus, throwing off his own;
'we'll win silks for our tartans before the sun is above the sea.'

The clansmen on every side stripped their plaids, prepared their arms,
and there was an awful pause of about three minutes, during which
the men, pulling off their bonnets, raised their faces to heaven, and
uttered a short prayer; then pulled their bonnets over their brows, and
began to move forward at first slowly. Waverley felt his heart at that
moment throb as it would have burst from his bosom. It was not fear, it
was not ardour,--it was a compound of both, a new and deeply energetic
impulse, that with its first emotion chilled and astounded, then fevered
and maddened his mind, The sounds around him combined to exalt his
enthusiasm; the pipes played, and the clans rushed forward, each in
its own dark column. As they advanced they mended their pace, and the
muttering sounds of the men to each other began to swell into a wild
cry.

At this moment, the sun, which was now risen above the horizon,
dispelled the mist. The vapours rose like a curtain, and showed the
two armies in the act of closing. The line of the regulars was formed
directly fronting the attack of the Highlanders; it glittered with
the appointments of a complete army, and was flanked by cavalry and
artillery. But the sight impressed no terror on the assailants.

'Forward, sons of Ivor,' cried their Chief, 'or the Camerons will draw
the first blood!'--They rushed on with a tremendous yell.

The rest is well known. The horse, who were commanded to charge the
advancing Highlanders in the flank, received an irregular fire from
their fusees as they ran on, and, seized with a disgraceful panic,
wavered, halted, disbanded, and galloped from the field. The
artillerymen, deserted by the cavalry, fled after discharging their
pieces, and the Highlanders, who dropped their guns when fired, and drew
their broadswords, rushed with headlong fury against the infantry.

It was at this moment of confusion and terror, that Waverley remarked an
English officer, apparently of high rank, standing alone and unsupported
by a field-piece, which, after the flight of the men by whom it was
wrought, he had himself levelled and discharged against the clan of
Mac-Ivor, the nearest group of Highlanders within his aim. Struck
with his tall, martial figure, and eager to save him from inevitable
destruction, Waverley outstripped for an instant even the speediest of
the warriors, and, reaching the spot first, called to him to surrender.
The officer replied by a thrust with his sword, which Waverley received
in his target, and in turning it aside the Englishman's weapon broke.
At the same time the battle-axe of Dugald Mahony was in the act of
descending upon the officer's head. Waverley intercepted and prevented
the blow, and the officer, perceiving further resistance unavailing,
and struck with Edward's generous anxiety for his safety, resigned the
fragment of his sword, and was committed by Waverley to Dugald, with
strict charge to use him well, and not to pillage his person, promising
him, at the same time, full indemnification for the spoil.

On Edward's right, the battle for a few minutes raged fierce and thick.
The English infantry, trained in the wars in Flanders, stood their
ground with great courage. But their extended files were pierced and
broken in many places by the close masses of the clans; and in the
personal struggle which ensued, the nature of the Highlanders' weapons,
and their extraordinary fierceness and activity, gave them a decided
superiority over those who had been accustomed to trust much to their
array and discipline, and felt that the one was broken and the other
useless. Waverley, as he cast his eyes towards this scene of smoke and
slaughter, observed Colonel Gardiner, deserted by his own soldiers in
spite of all his attempts to rally them, yet spurring his horse through
the field to take the command of a small body of infantry, who, with
their backs arranged against the wall of his own park (for his house
was close by the field of battle), continued a desperate and unavailing
resistance. Waverley could perceive that he had already received many
wounds, his clothes and saddle being marked with blood. To save this
good and brave man, became the instant object of his most anxious
exertions. But he could only witness his fall. Ere Edward could make
his way among the Highlanders, who, furious and eager for spoil, now
thronged upon each other, he saw his former commander brought from his
horse by the blow of a scythe, and beheld him receive, while on the
ground, more wounds than would have let out twenty lives. When Waverley
came up, however, perception had not entirely fled. The dying warrior
seemed to recognize Edward, for he fixed his eye upon him with an
upbraiding, yet sorrowful look, and appeared to struggle for utterance.
But he felt that death was dealing closely with him, and resigning his
purpose, and folding his hands as if in devotion, he gave up his soul
to his Creator. The look with which he regarded Waverley in his dying
moments did not strike him so deeply at that crisis of hurry and
confusion, as when it recurred to his imagination at the distance of
some time. [See Note 27.]