Waverley

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CHAPTER VI

THE ADIEUS OF WAVERLEY

It was upon the evening of this memorable Sunday 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 bestrode
concealed by the voluminous robes of the Bath with which he was
decorated. Sir Everard entered, and after a glance at the picture and
another at his nephew, began a little speech, which, however, soon
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 arrangements
as will enable 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 remember what name you bear. And, Edward, my dear boy, remember
also that you are the last of that race, and the only hope of its
revival depends upon you; therefore, as far as duty and honour will
permit, avoid danger--I mean unnecessary danger--and keep no company
with rakes, gamblers, and Whigs, of whom, it is to be feared, there are
but too many in the service into which you are going. Your colonel, as
I am informed, is an excellent man--for a Presbyterian; but you will
remember your duty to God, the Church of England, and the--' (this
breach ought to have been supplied, according to the rubric, with
the word KING; but as, unfortunately, that word conveyed a double and
embarrassing sense, one meaning DE FACTO, and the other DE JURE, the
knight filled up the blank otherwise)--'the Church of England, and all
constituted authorities.' Then, not trusting himself with any further
oratory, he carried his nephew to his stables to see the horses destined
for his campaign. Two were black (the regimental colour), superb
chargers both; the other three were stout active hacks, designed for
the road, or for his domestics, of whom two were to attend him from the
Hall: an additional groom, if necessary, might be picked up in Scotland.

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

Sir Everard had done his best to correct this unnatural disposition of
the times; for he had brightened 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,
carefully 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 Waverley, 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 Stuart 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 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. [2] The simplicity of this anecdote
struck the gentleman, who, as we before observed, had managed the
defence of some of those unfortunate persons, at the expense of Sir
Everard, and perhaps some others of the party. He was, besides, himself
a special admirer of the old Patavinian; and though probably his own
zeal might not have carried him such extravagant lengths, even to
recover the edition of Sweynheim and Pannartz (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, detect legal flaws, ET CETERA, that he accomplished
the final discharge and deliverance of Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine from
certain very awkward consequences of a plea before our sovereign lord
the king in Westminster.

The Baron of Bradwardine, for he was generally so called in Scotland
(although his intimates, from his place of residence, used to denominate
him. Tully-Veolan, or more familiarly, Tully), no sooner stood RECTUS
IN CURIA, than he posted down to pay his respects and make his
acknowledgements at Waverley-Honour. A congenial passion for field
sports, and a general coincidence in political opinions, cemented his
friendship with Sir Everard, notwithstanding the difference of their
habits and studies in other particulars; and, having spent several weeks
at Waverley-Honour, the Baron departed 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 reimbursement of expenses incurred in the King's High Court of
Westminster, which, although not quite so formidable when reduced to
the English denomination, had, in its original form of Scotch pounds,
shillings, and pence, such a formidable effect upon the frame of Duncan
Macwheeble, the laird's confidential factor, baron-bailie, and man of
resource, that he had a fit of the colic which lasted for five days,
occasioned, he said, solely and utterly by becoming the unhappy
instrument of conveying such a serious sum of money out of his native
country into the hands of the false English. But patriotism as it is the
fairest, so it is often the most suspicious mask of other feelings;
and many who knew Bailie Macwheeble, concluded that his professions of
regret were not altogether disinterested, and that he would have grudged
the moneys paid to the LOONS at Westminster much less had they not come
from Bradwardine estate, a 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 laird was only rejoiced that his worthy friend, Sir Everard Waverley
of Waverley-Honour, was reimbursed of the expenditure which he had
outlaid 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, if
would be a matter of national reproach. Sir Everard, accustomed to treat
much larger sums with indifference, received the remittance of 294l.
13s. 6d., without being aware that the payment was an international
concern, and, indeed, would probably have forgot the circumstance
altogether, if Bailie Macwheeble had thought of comforting his colic by
intercepting the subsidy. A yearly intercourse took place, of a short
letter, and a hamper or a cask or two, between Waverley-Honour and
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 Waverley-Honour could not, with propriety,
visit Scotland without being furnished with credentials to the Baron of
Bradwardine.

When this matter was explained and settled, Mr. Pembroke expressed his
wish to take a private and particular leave of his dear pupil. The good
man's exhortations to Edward to preserve an unblemished life and morals,
to hold fast the principles of the Christian religion, and to eschew the
profane company of scoffers and latitudinarians, too much abounding
in the army, were not unmingled with his political prejudices. It had
pleased Heaven, he said, to place Scotland (doubtless for the sins of
their ancestors in 1642) in a more deplorable state of darkness than
even this unhappy kingdom of England. Here, at least, although the
candlestick of the Church of England had been in some degree removed
from its place, it yet afforded a glimmering light; there was a
hierarchy, though schismatical, and fallen from the principles
maintained by those great fathers of the church, Sancroft and his
brethren; there was a liturgy, though wofully perverted in some of
the principal petitions. But in Scotland it was utter darkness; and,
excepting a 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
intention of giving them to the world, by the medium of a bookseller in
Little Britain, well known to deal in such commodities, and to whom he
was instructed to address himself in a particular phrase, and with a
certain sign, which, it seems, passed at that time current among the
initiated Jacobites. The moment Mr. Pembroke had uttered the
shibboleth, with the appropriate gesture, the bibliopolist greeted
him, notwithstanding every disclamation, by the title of Doctor, and
conveying him into his back shop, after inspecting every possible and
impossible place of concealment, he 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 Rome?--it must be Rome 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 Impossibility 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 Controversial Divines.' To this work the
bookseller positively demurred. 'Well meant,' he said, 'and learned,
doubtless; but the time had gone by. Printed on small pica it would
run to eight hundred pages, and could never pay. Begged therefore to be
excused. Loved and honoured the true church from his soul; and, had it
been a sermon on the martyrdom, or any twelve-penny touch--why I would
venture something for the honour of the cloth. But come, let's see
the other. 'Right Hereditary righted!' ah, there's some sense in this!
Hum--hum--hum--pages so many, paper so much, letterpress--Ah! I'll tell
you, though, doctor, you must knock out some of the Latin and Greek;
heavy, doctor, damn'd heavy--(beg your pardon) and if you throw in a
few grains more pepper--I am he that never peached my author--I have
published for Drake, and Charlwood Lawton, and poor Amhurst. [3]--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 Roundheads every man of them,
Williamites and Hanover rats.'

The next day Mr. Pembroke again called on the publisher, but found Tom
Alibi's advice had determined him against undertaking the work. 'Not but
what I would go to--(what was I going to say?) to the Plantations for
the church with pleasure--but, dear doctor, I have a wife and family;
but, to show my zeal, I'll recommend the job to my neighbour 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 perchance for himself, was compelled to return to
Waverley-Honour with his treatise in vindication of the real fundamental
principles of church and state safely packed in his saddle-bags.

As the public were thus likely to be deprived of the benefit arising
from his lucubrations by the selfish cowardice of the trade, Mr.
Pembroke resolved to make two copies of these tremendous manuscripts for
the use of his pupil. He felt that he had been indolent as a tutor, and,
besides, his conscience checked him for complying with the request of
Mr. Richard Waverley, that he would impress no sentiments upon Edward's
mind inconsistent with the present settlement in 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 compact lines of the manuscript, quietly consigned them to a
corner of his travelling trunk.

Aunt Rachel's farewell was brief and affectionate. She only cautioned
her dear Edward, whom she probably deemed somewhat susceptible, against
the fascination of Scottish beauty. She allowed that the northern part
of the island contained some ancient families, but they were all Whigs
and Presbyterians except the Highlanders; and respecting them she must
needs say, there could be no great delicacy among the ladies, where the
gentlemen's usual attire was, as she had been assured, to say the least,
very 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.



CHAPTER VII

A HORSE-QUARTER IN SCOTLAND

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

He now entered upon a new world, where, for a time, all was beautiful
because all was new. Colonel Gardiner, the commanding officer of the
regiment, was himself a study for a romantic, and at the same time an
inquisitive, youth. In person he was tall, handsome, and active, though
somewhat advanced in life. In his early years, he had been what is
called, by manner of palliative, a very gay young man, and strange
stories were circulated about his sudden conversion from doubt, if not
infidelity, to a serious and even enthusiastic turn of mind. It was
whispered that a supernatural communication, of a nature obvious even to
the exterior senses, had produced this wonderful change; and though some
mentioned the proselyte as an enthusiast, none hinted at his being a
hypocrite. This singular and mystical circumstance gave Colonel Gardiner
a peculiar and solemn interest in the eyes of the young soldier. [4]
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 Centaur, the guidance of the
horse appearing to proceed from the rider's mere volition, rather than
from the use of any external and apparent signal of motion. He received
also instructions in his field duty; but, I must own, that when
his first ardour was passed, his progress fell short in the latter
particular of what he wished and expected. The duty of an 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
arithmetical combinations, requiring much attention, and a cool and
reasoning head, to bring them into action. Our hero was liable to fits
of absence, in which his blunders excited some mirth, and called down
some reproof. This circumstance impressed him with a painful sense of
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 always successful in disentangling the various
partial movements necessary to execute a particular evolution; and
why his memory, so alert upon most occasions, did not correctly retain
technical phrases, and minute points of etiquette or field discipline.
Waverley was naturally modest, and therefore did not fall into the
egregious mistake of supposing such minuter rules of 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
mercantile 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 and correspondent, with the purpose
of extending or shortening the time of his residence according to
circumstances. He travelled of course on horseback, and with a single
attendant, and passed his first night at a miserable inn, where the
landlady had neither shoes nor stockings, and the landlord, who called
himself a gentleman, was disposed to be rude to his guest, because he
had not bespoke the pleasure of his society to supper. [5] 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 country, dwelt Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine of Bradwardine; and, if
grey-haired eld can be in aught believed, there had dwelt his ancestors,
with all their heritage, since the days of the gracious King Duncan.



CHAPTER VIII

A SCOTTISH MANOR-HOUSE SIXTY YEARS SINCE

It was about noon when Captain Waverley entered the straggling village,
or rather hamlet, of Tully-Veolan, close to which was situated the
mansion of the proprietor. The houses seemed miserable in the extreme,
especially to an eye accustomed to the smiling neatness of English
cottages. They stood, without any respect for regularity, on each side
of & straggling kind of unpaved street, where children, almost in a
primitive state of nakedness, lay sprawling, as if to be crushed by
the hoofs of the first passing horse. Occasionally, indeed, when such a
consummation seemed inevitable, a watchful old grandam, 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 sunburnt 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. Another part in this concert was sustained by the incessant
yelping of a score of idle useless curs, which followed, snarling,
barking, howling, and snapping at the horses' heels; a nuisance at
that time so common in Scotland, that a French tourist, who, like other
travellers, longed to find a good and rational reason for everything
he saw, has recorded, as one of the memorabilia of Caledonia, that the
state maintained in each village a relay of curs, called COLLIES, whose
duty it was to chase the CHEVAUX DE POSTE (too starved and exhausted
to move without such a stimulus) from one hamlet to another, till their
annoying convoy drove them to the end of their stage. The evil and
remedy (such as it is) still exist: but this is remote from our present
purpose, and is only thrown out for consideration of the collectors
under Mr. Dent's dog bill.

As Waverley moved on, here and there an old man, bent as much by toil as
years, his eyes bleared with age and smoke, tottered to the door of his
hut, to gaze on the dress of the stranger, and the form and motions of
the horses, and then assembled with his neighbours, in a little group
at the smithy, to discuss the probabilities of whence the stranger came,
and where he might be going. Three or four village girls, returning from
the well or brook with pitchers and pails upon their heads, formed
more pleasing objects; and, with their thin, short gowns and single
petticoats, bare arms, legs, and feet, uncovered heads, and braided
hair, somewhat resembled Italian forms of landscape. Nor could a lover
of the 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 considerably improved, by a plentiful application of spring water,
with a QUANTUM SUFFICIT 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 Tully-Veolan: the curs
aforesaid alone showed any part of its activity; with the villagers it
was passive. They stood and gazed at the handsome young officer and his
attendant, but without any of those quick motions, and eager looks, that
indicate the earnestness with which those who live in monotonous ease at
home, look out for amusement abroad. Yet the physiognomy of the people,
when more closely examined, was far from exhibiting the indifference of
stupidity; their features were rough, but remarkably intelligent; grave,
but the very reverse of stupid; and from among the 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 burnt
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 indolence, its too frequent companion, were combining
to depress the natural genius and acquired information of a hardy,
intelligent, and reflecting peasantry.