Waverley

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At his first address to Waverley, it would seem that the hearty pleasure
he felt to behold the nephew of his friend had somewhat discomposed the
stiff and upright dignity of the Baron of Bradwardine's demeanour, for
the tears stood in the old gentleman's eyes, when, having first shaken
Edward heartily by the hand in the English fashion, he embraced him A
LA MODE FRANCAISE, and kissed him on both sides of his face; while
the hardness of his grip, 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
Everard--MAIS CELA VIENDRA AVEC LE TEMPS, as my Dutch acquaintance,
Baron Kikkitbroeck, said of the SAGESSE of MADAME SON EPOUSE.--And so ye
have mounted the cockade? Right, right; though I could have wished the
colour different, and so I would ha' deemed might Sir Everard. But no
more of that; I am old, and times are changed.--And how does the worthy
knight baronet, and the fair Mrs. Rachel?--Ah, ye laugh, young man!
In troth she was the fair Mrs. Rachel in the year of grace seventeen
hundred and sixteen; but time passes--ET SINGULA PRAEDANTUR ANNI--that
is most certain. But once again, ye are most heartily welcome to my poor
house of Tully-Veolan!--Hie to the house, Rose, and see that Alexander
Saunderson leaks out the old Chateau Margaux, which I sent from
Bourdeaux to Dundee in the year 1713.'

Rose tripped off demurely enough till she turned the first corner, and
then ran with the speed of a fairy, that she might gain leisure, after
discharging her father's commission, to put her own 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 EPULAE LAUTIORES of Wavery-Honour--I say EPULAE rather
than PRANDIUM, because the latter phrase is popular; EPULAE AD SENATUM,
PRANDIUM VERO AD POPULUM ATTINET, says Suetonius Tranquillus. But I
trust ye will applaud my Bourdeaux; C'EST D'UNE OREILLE, as Captain
Vinsauf used to say--VINUM PRIMAE NOTAE, the Principal of St. Andrews
denominated it. And, once more, Captain Waverley, right glad am I that
ye are here to drink the best my cellar can make forthcoming.'

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

These, as the Baron assured his young friend, were very estimable
persons. 'There was the young Laird of Balmawhapple, a Falconer by
surname, of the house of Glenfarquhar, given right much to field
sports--GAUDAT EQUIS ET CANIBUS--but a very discreet young gentleman.
Then there was the Laird of Killancureit, who had devoted his leisure
UNTILL tillage and agriculture, and boasted himself to be possessed of a
bull of matchless merit, brought from the county of Devon (the Damnonia,
of the Romans, if we can trust Robert of Cirencester). He is, as ye may
well suppose from such a tendency, but of yeoman extraction--SERVABIT
ODOREM TESTA DIU--and I believe, between ourselves, his grandsire was
from the wrong side of the Border--one Bullsegg, who came hither as a
steward, or bailiff, or ground-officer, or something 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 possessed himself of the estate,
which devolved on this unhappy woman by a settlement of her umwhile
husband, in direct contravention of an unrecorded 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 lawsuit, 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 irreproachable
lineage should exult over him, when it may be, that in the eighth,
ninth, or tenth generation, his progeny may rank, in a manner, with the
old gentry of the country. Rank and ancestry, sir, should be the last
words in the mouths of us of unblemished race--VIX EA NOSTRA VOCO,
as Naso saith.--There is, besides, a clergyman of the true (though
suffering) Episcopal church of Scotland. He was a confessor in her cause
after the year 1715, when a Whiggish mob destroyed his meeting-house,
tore his surplice, and plundered his dwelling-house of four silver
spoons, intromitting also with his mart and his meal-ark, and with two
barrels, one of single, and one of double ale, besides three bottles of
brandy. [7] My Baron-Bailie and doer, Mr. Duncan Macwheeble,
is the fourth on our list. There is a question, owing to the incertitude
of ancient orthography, whether he belongs to the clan of Wheedle or of
Quibble, but both have produced persons eminent in the law.'--

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



CHAPTER XI

THE BANQUET

The entertainment was ample, and handsome, according to the Scotch ideas
of the period, and the guests did great honour to it. The Baron ate like
a famished soldier, the Laird of Balmawhapple like a sportsman, Bullsegg
of Killancureit like a farmer, 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 communication with his plate by projecting his person towards
it in a line, which obliqued from the bottom of his spine, so that the
person who sat opposite to him could only see the foretop of his riding
periwig.

This stooping position might have been inconvenient to another person;
but long habit made it, whether seated or 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 of contempt or slight regard they might derive from the
circumstance. Hence, when he waddled across the court to and from his
old grey pony, he somewhat resembled a turnspit walking upon its hind
legs.

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

Who, undeprived, their benefice forsook.

For this whim, when the Baron was out of hearing, the Bailie used
sometimes gently to rally Mr. Rubrick, upbraiding him with the nicety of
his scruples. Indeed it must be owned, that he himself, 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 announced the health of the
King, politely leaving to the consciences of his guests to drink to
the sovereign DE FACTO or DE JURE, as their politics inclined.
The conversation now became general; and, shortly afterwards, Miss
Bradwardine, who had done the honours with natural grace and simplicity,
retired, and was soon followed by the clergyman. Among the rest of the
party, the wine, which fully justified the encomiums of the landlord,
flowed freely round, although Waverley, with some difficulty, obtained
the privilege of sometimes neglecting the glass. At length, as the
evening grew more late, the Baron made a private signal to Mr. Saunders
Saunderson, or, as he facetiously denominated him, ALEXANDER AB
ALEXANDRO, who left the room with a nod, and soon after returned, his
grave countenance mantling with a solemn and mysterious smile, and
placed before his master a small oaken casket, mounted with brass
ornaments of curious form. The Baron, drawing out a private key,
unlocked the casket, raised the lid, and produced a golden goblet of
a singular and antique appearance, moulded into the shape of a rampant
bear, which the owner regarded with a look of mingled reverence, pride,
and delight, that irresistibly reminded Waverley of Ben Jonson's Tom
Otter, with his Bull, Horse, and Dog, as that wag wittily denominated
his chief carousing cups. But Mr. Bradwardine, fuming towards him with
complacency, requested him to observe this curious relic of the olden
time.

'It represents,' he said, 'the chosen crest of our family, a bear, as ye
observe, and rampant; because a good herald will depict every animal in
its noblest posture; as a horse SALIENT, a greyhound CURRANT, and, as
may be inferred, a ravenous animal IN ACTU FEROCIORI, or in a voracious,
lacerating, and devouring posture. Now, sir, we hold this most
honourable achievement by the wappen-brief, or concession of arms,
of Frederick Redbeard, 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.

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
invested with certain properties of a mystical and supernatural quality.
And though I give not in to such ANILIA, it is certain it has always
been esteemed a solemn standard cup and 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 devote
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
conclusion, delivering the bottle to the butler, to be held carefully in
the same angle with the horizon, he devoutly quaffed off the contents of
the Blessed Bear of 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 courtesy would be extremely ill received. Resolving,
therefore, to submit to this last piece of tyranny, and then to quit the
table, if possible, and confiding in the strength of his constitution,
he did justice to the company in the contents of the Blessed Bear, and
felt less inconvenience from the draught than he could possibly have
expected. The others, whose time had been more actively employed, began
to show symptoms of innovation,--'the good wine did its good office.'
[Southey's MADOC.] The frost of etiquette, and pride of birth, began to
give way before the genial blessings of this benign constellation, and
the formal appellatives with which the three dignitaries had hitherto
addressed each other, were now familiarly abbreviated into Tully,
Bally, and Killie. When a few rounds had passed, the two latter, after
whispering together, craved permission (a joyful hearing for Edward) to
ask the grace-cup. This, after some delay, was at length produced, and
Waverley concluded that the orgies of Bacchus were terminated for the
evening. He was never more mistaken in his life.

As the guests had left their horses at the small inn, or CHANGE-HOUSE,
as it was called, of the village, the Baron could not, in politeness,
avoid walking with them up the avenue, and Waverley, from the same
motive, and to enjoy, after this feverish revel, the cool summer
evening, attended the party. But when they arrived at Luckie Macleary's,
the Lairds of Balmawhapple and 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. [8]

It must be noticed, that the Bailie, knowing by experience that the
day's joviality, which had been hitherto sustained at the expense of his
patron, might terminate partly at his own, had mounted his spavined grey
pony, and, between gaiety of heart, and alarm for being hooked into a
reckoning, spurred him into a hobbling canter (a trot was out of the
question), and had already cleared the village. The others entered the
change-house, leading Edward in unresisting submission; for his landlord
whispered him, that to demur to such an overture would be construed into
a high misdemeanour against the LEGES CONVIVIALES, or regulations of
genial compotation. Widow 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 gentlemen'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 themselves for the previous
restraints imposed by private hospitality, by spending, what Falstaff
calls the sweet of the night, in the genial license of a tavern.

Accordingly, in full expectation of these distinguished guests, Luckie
Macleary had swept her house for the first time this fortnight, tempered
her turf-fire to such a heat as the season required in her damp hovel
even at Midsummer, set forth her deal table newly washed, propped its
lame foot with a fragment of turf, arranged four or five stools of huge
and clumsy form, upon the sites which best suited the inequalities of
her clay floor; and having, moreover, put on her clean toy, rokelay, and
scarlet plaid, gravely awaited the arrival of the company, in full hope
of custom and profit. When they were seated under the sooty rafters of
Luckie Macleary's only apartment, thickly tapestried with cobwebs, their
hostess, who had already taken her cue from the Laird of Balmawhapple,
appeared with a huge pewter measuring-pot, containing at least three
English quarts, familiarly denominated a TAPPIT HEN, and which, in the
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 hist neighbour. The
Baron of Bradwardine sang French CHANSONS-A-BOIRE, and spouted pieces
of Latin; Killancureit talked, in a steady unalterable dull key,
of top-dressing and bottom-dressing, [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.] and year-olds, and gimmers,
and dinmonts, and stots, and runts, and kyloes, and a proposed
turnpike-act; while Balmawhapple, in notes exalted above both, extolled
his horse, his hawks, and a greyhound called Whistler. In the middle of
this din, the Baron repeatedly implored silence; and when at length the
instinct of polite discipline so far prevailed, that for a moment he
obtained it, he hastened to beseech their attention 'unto a military
ariette, which was a particular favourite of the Marechal Duc 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, garcon;
Est pour un homme de guerre,
Qui a barbe au menton.
Lon, Lon, Laridon.

Qui ports chapeau a plume,
Soulier a rouge talon,
Qui joue de la flute,
Aussi du violon.
Lon, Lon, Laridon.

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

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

[SUUM CUIQUE. This snatch of a ballad was composed by Andrew MacDonald,
the ingenious and unfortunate author of VIMONDA.]

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

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

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

Edward was not at that moment clear-headed enough to remember that King
William's fall, which occasioned his death, was said to be owing to his
horse stumbling at a mole-hill; yet felt inclined to take umbrage at a
toast, which seemed, from the glance of Balmawhapple's eye, to have a
peculiar and uncivil reference to the Government which he served.
But, ere he could interfere, the Baron of Bradwardine had taken up the
quarrel. 'Sir,' he said, 'whatever my sentiments, TANQUAM PRIVATUS, may
be in such matters, I shall not tamely endure your saying anything that
may impinge upon the honourable feelings of a gentleman under my roof.
Sir, if you have no respect for the laws of urbanity, do ye not respect
the military oath, the 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 Roman soldiers who were so unhappy as EXUERE
SACRAMENTUM,--to renounce their legionary oath; but you are ignorant,
sir, alike of ancient history and modern 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 Englishman;' and Waverley, at
the same moment, entreating Mr. Bradwardine to permit him to reply to
an affront which seemed levelled at him personally. But the Baron was
exalted by wine, wrath, and scorn, above all sublunary considerations.

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER XII

REPENTANCE AND A RECONCILIATION

Waverley was unaccustomed to the use of wine, excepting with great
temperance. He slept, therefore, 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 had offered it was not,
at the time it was given, possessed of the moderate share of sense which
nature had allotted him; true also, in resenting this insult, he would
break the laws of Heaven, as well as of his country; true, in doing so,
he might take the life of a young man who perhaps respectably discharged
the social duties, and render his family miserable; or he might lose his
own;--no pleasant alternative even to the bravest, when it is debated
coolly and in private.