Waverley

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The view of the old tower, or fortalice, introduced some family
anecdotes and tales of Scottish chivalry, which the Baron told with
great enthusiasm. The projecting peak of an impending crag which rose
near it, had acquired the name of St. Swithin's Chair. it was the scene
of a peculiar superstition, of which Mr. Rubrick mentioned some curious
particulars, which reminded Waverley of a rhyme quoted By Edgar in KING
LEAR; and Rose was called upon to sing a little legend, in which they
had been interwoven by some village poet,

Who, noteless as the race from which he sprung,
Saved others' names, but left his own unsung.

The sweetness of her voice, and the simple beauty of her music, gave
all the advantage which the minstrel could have desired, and which his
poetry so much wanted. I almost doubt if it can be read with patience,
destitute of these advantages; although I conjecture the following copy
to have been somewhat corrected by Waverley, to suit the taste of those
who might not relish pure antiquity:--

ST. SWITHIN'S CHAIR.

On Hallow-Mass Eve, ere ye boune ye to rest,
Ever beware that your couch be blessed;
Sign it with cross, and sain it with bead,
Sing the Ave, and say the Creed.

For on Hallow-Mass Eve the Night-Hag will ride,
And all her nine-fold sweeping on by her side,
Whether the wind sing lowly or loud,
Sailing through moonshine or swathed in the cloud.

The Lady she sat in St. Swithin's Chair,
The dew of the night has damped her hair:
Her cheek was pale--but resolved and high
Was the word of her lip and the glance of her eye.

She muttered the spell of Swithin bold,
When his naked foot traced the midnight wold,
When he stopped the Hag as she rode the night,
And bade her descend, and her promise plight.

He that dare sit on St. Swithin's Chair,
When the Night-Hag wings the troubled air,
Questions three, when he speaks the spell,
He may ask, and she must tell.

The Baron has been with King Robert his liege,
These three long years in battle and siege;
News are there none of his weal or his woe,
And fain the Lady his fate would know.

She shudders and stops as the charm she speaks;--
Is it the moody owl that shrieks?
Or is it that sound, betwixt laughter and scream,
The voice of the Demon who haunts the stream?

The moan of the wind sunk silent and low,
And the roaring torrent ceased to flow;
The calm was more dreadful than raging storm,
Then the cold grey mist brought the ghastly form!

. . . . . .

'I am sorry to disappoint the company, especially Captain Waverley, who
listens with such laudable gravity; it is but a fragment, although I
think there are other verses, describing the return of the Baron from
the wars, and how the lady was found "clay-cold upon the grounsill
ledge."'

'It is one of those figments,' observed Mr. Bradwardine, 'with which
the early history of distinguished families was deformed in the times
of superstition; as that of Rome, and other ancient nations, had their
prodigies, sir, the which you may read in ancient histories, or in the
little work compiled by Julius Obsequens, and inscribed by the learned
Scheffer, the editor, to his patron, Benedictus Skytte, Baron of
Dudershoff.'

'My father has a strange defiance of the marvellous, Captain Waverley,'
observed Rose, 'and once stood firm when a whole synod of Presbyterian
divines were put to the rout by a sudden apparition of the foul fiend.'

Waverley looked as if desirous to hear more.

Must I tell my story as well as sing my song?--Well.--Once upon a time
there lived an old woman, called Janet Gellatley, who was suspected to
be a witch, on the infallible grounds that she was very old, very ugly,
very poor, and had two sons, one of whom was a poet, and the other a
fool, which visitation, all the neighbourhood agreed, had come upon
her for the sin of witchcraft. And she was imprisoned for a week in the
steeple of the parish church, and sparingly supplied with food, and not
permitted to sleep, until she herself became as much persuaded of her
being a witch as her accusers; and in this lucid and happy state of
mind was brought forth to make a clean breast, that is, to make open
confession of her sorceries, before all the Whig gentry and ministers
in the vicinity, who were no conjurers themselves. My father went to see
fair play between the witch and the clergy; for the witch had been
born on his estate. 'And while the witch was confessing that the Enemy
appeared, and made his addresses to her as a handsome black man,--which,
if you could have seen poor old blear-eyed Janet, reflected little
honour on Apollyon's taste,--and while the auditors listened with
astonished ears, and the clerk recorded with a trembling hand, she, all
of a sudden, changed the low mumbling tone with which she spoke into a
shrill yell, and exclaimed, "Look to yourselves! look to yourselves! I
see the Evil One sitting in the midst of ye." The surprise was general,
and terror and flight its immediate consequences. Happy were those who
were next the door; and many were the disasters that befell hats, bands,
cuffs, and wigs, before they could get out of the church, where they
left the obstinate prelatist to settle matters with the witch and her
admirer, at his own peril or pleasure.'

'RISU SOLVUNTUR TABULAE,' said the Baron: 'when they recovered their
panic trepidation, they were too much ashamed to bring any wakening of
the process against Janet Gellatley.' [The story last told was said to
have happened in the south of Scotland; but--CEDANT ARMA TOGAE--and
let the gown have its dues. It was an old clergyman, who had wisdom and
firmness enough to resist the panic which seized his brethren, who was
the means of rescuing a poor insane creature from the cruel fate which
would otherwise have overtaken her. The accounts of the trials for
witchcraft form one of the most deplorable chapters in Scottish story.]

This anecdote led to a long discussion of

All those idle thoughts and fantasies,
Devices, dreams, opinions unsound,
Shows, visions, soothsays, and prophecies,
And all that feigned is, as leasings, tales, and lies.

With such conversation, and the romantic legends which it produced,
closed our hero's second evening in the house of Tully-Veolan.



CHAPTER XIV

A DISCOVERY--WAVERLEY BECOMES DOMESTICATED AT TULLY-VEOLAN

The next day Edward arose betimes, and in a morning walk around the
house and its vicinity, came suddenly upon a small court in front of the
dog-kennel, where his friend Davie was employed about his four-footed
charge. One quick glance of his eye recognized Waverley, when, instantly
turning his back, as if he had not observed him, he began to sing part
of an old ballad:--

Young men will love thee more fair and more fast;
HEARD YE SO MERRY THE LITTLE BIRD SING?
Old men's love the longest will last,
AND THE THROSTLE-COCK'S HEAD IS UNDER HIS WING.

The young man's wrath is like light straw on fire;
HEARD YE SO MERRY THE LITTLE BIRD SING?
But like red-hot steel is the old man's ire,
AND THE THROSTLE-COCK'S HEAD IS UNDER HIS WING.

The young man will brawl at the evening board;
HEARD YE SO MERRY THE LITTLE BIRD SING?
But the old man will draw at the dawning the sword,
AND THE THROSTLE-COCK'S HEAD IS UNDER HIS WING.

Waverley could not avoid observing that Davie laid something like
a satirical emphasis on these lines. He therefore approached, and
endeavoured, by sundry queries, to elicit from him what the innuendo
might mean; but Davie had no mind to explain, and had wit enough to
make his folly cloak his knavery. Edward could collect nothing from
him, excepting that the Laird of Balmawhapple had gone home yesterday
morning, 'wi' his boots fu' o' bluid.' In the garden, however, he met
the old butler, who no longer attempted to conceal, that, having been
bred in the nursery line with Sumack & Co., of Newcastle, he sometimes
wrought a turn in the flower-borders to oblige the Laird and Miss Rose.
By a series of queries, Edward at length discovered, with a painful
feeling of surprise and shame, that Balmawhapple's submission and
apology had been the consequence of a rencontre with the Baron before
his guest had quitted his pillow, in which the younger combatant had
been disarmed and wounded in the sword-arm.

Greatly mortified at this information, Edward sought out his friendly
host, and anxiously expostulated with him upon the injustice he had done
him in anticipating his meeting with Mr. Falconer, a circumstance which,
considering his youth and the profession of arms which he had just
adopted, was capable of being represented much to his prejudice. The
Baron justified himself at greater length than I choose to repeat. He
urged that the quarrel was common to them, and that Balmawhapple could
not, by the code of honour, EVITE giving satisfaction to both, which he
had done in his case by an honourable meeting, and in that of Edward by
such a PALINODE as rendered the use of the sword unnecessary, and which,
being made and accepted, must necessarily SOPITE the whole affair.

With this excuse or explanation, Waverley was silenced, if not
satisfied; but he could not help testifying some displeasure against
the Blessed Bear, which had given rise to the quarrel, nor refrain from
hinting, that the sanctified epithet was hardly appropriate. The Baron
observed, he could not deny that 'the Bear, though allowed by heralds
as a most honourable ordinary, had, nevertheless, somewhat fierce,
churlish, and morose in his disposition (as might be read in Archibald
Simson, pastor of Dalkeith's HIEROGLYPHICA ANIMALIUM), and had thus
been the type of many quarrels and dissensions which had occurred in the
house of Bradwardine; of which,' he continued, 'I might commemorate mine
own unfortunate dissension with my third cousin by the mother's side,
Sir Hew Halbert, who was so unthinking as to deride my family name, as
if it had been QUASI BEARWARDEN; a most uncivil jest, since it not only
insinuated that the founder of our house occupied such a mean situation
as to be a custodier of wild beasts, a charge which, ye must have
observed, is only entrusted to the very basest plebeians; but, moreover,
seemed to infer that our coat-armour had not been achieved by honourable
actions in war, but bestowed by way of PARONOMASIA, or pun upon our
family appellation,--a sort of bearing which the French call ARMOIRES
PARLANTES; the Latins ARMA CANTANTIA; and your English authorities,
canting heraldry; being indeed a species of emblazoning more befitting
canters, gaberlunzies, and such-like mendicants, whose gibberish is
formed upon playing upon the word, than the noble, honourable, and
useful science of heraldry, which assigns armorial bearings as the
reward of noble and generous actions, and not to tickle the ear with
vain quodlibets, such as are found in jest-books.' [9] Of his
quarrel with Sir Hew, he said nothing more, than that it was settled in
a fitting manner.

Having been so minute with respect to the diversions of Tully-Veolan, on
the first days of Edward's arrival, for the purpose of introducing its
inmates to the reader's acquaintance, it becomes less necessary to trace
the progress of his intercourse with the same accuracy. It is probable
that a young man, accustomed to more cheerful society, would have tired
of the conversation of so violent an asserter of the 'boast of heraldry'
as the Baron; but Edward found an agreeable variety in that of Miss
Bradwardine, who listened with eagerness to his remarks upon literature,
and showed great justness of taste in her answers. The sweetness of her
disposition had made her submit with complacency, and even pleasure,
to the course of reading prescribed by her father, although it not only
comprehended several heavy folios of history, but certain gigantic tomes
in High Church polemics. In heraldry he was fortunately contented to
give her only such a slight tincture as might be acquired by perusal of
the two folio volumes of Nisbet. Rose was indeed the very apple of her
father's eye. Her constant liveliness, her attention to all those little
observances most gratifying to those who would never think of exacting
them, her beauty, in which he recalled the features of his beloved wife,
her unfeigned piety, and the noble generosity of her disposition, would
have justified the affection of the most doting father.

His anxiety on her behalf did not, however, seem to extend itself
in that quarter, where, according to the general opinion, it is most
efficiently displayed; in labouring, namely, to establish her in life,
either by a large dowry or a wealthy marriage. By an old settlement,
almost all the landed estates of the Baron went, after his death, to a
distant relation; and it was supposed that Miss Bradwardine would remain
but slenderly provided for, as the good gentleman's cash matters had
been too long under the exclusive charge of Bailie Macwheeble, to admit
of any great expectations from his personal succession. It is true, the
said Bailie loved his patron and his patron's daughter next (although at
an incomparable distance) to himself. He thought it was possible to
set aside the settlement on the male line, and had actually procured
an opinion to that effect (and, as he boasted, without a fee) from an
eminent Scottish counsel, under whose notice he contrived to bring the
point while consulting him regularly on some other business. But
the Baron would not listen to such a proposal for an instant. On the
contrary, he used to have a perverse pleasure in boasting that the
barony of Bradwardine was a male fief, the first charter having been
given at that early period when women were not deemed capable to hold a
feudal grant; because, according to Les COUSTUSMES DE NORMANDIE, C'EST
L'HOMME KI SE BAST ET KI CONSEILLE; or, as is yet more ungallantly
expressed by other authorities, all of whose barbarous names he
delighted to quote at full length, because a woman could not serve the
superior, or feudal lord, in war, on account of the decorum of her sex,
nor assist him with advice, because of her limited intellect, nor
keep his counsel, owing to the infirmity of her disposition. He would
triumphantly ask, how it would become a female, and that female a
Bradwardine, to be seen employed in, SERVITIO EXUENDI, SEU DETRAHENDI,
CALIGAS REGIS POST BATTALIAM? that is, in pulling off the king's boots
after an engagement, which was the feudal service by which he held the
barony of Bradwardine. 'No,' he said, 'beyond hesitation, PROCUL DUBIO,
many females, as worthy as Rose, had been excluded, in order to make
way for my own succession, and Heaven forbid that I should do aught that
might contravene the destination of my forefathers, or impinge upon the
right of my kinsman, Malcolm Bradwardine of Inchgrabbit, an honourable
though decayed branch of my own family.'

The Bailie, as prime minister, having received this decisive
communication from his sovereign, durst not press his own opinion
any further, but contented himself with deploring, on all suitable
occasions, to Saunderson, the minister of the interior, the Laird's
self-willedness, and with laying plans for uniting Rose with the young
laird of Balmawhapple, who had a fine estate, only moderately burdened,
and was a faultless young gentleman, being as sober as a saint--if you
keep brandy from him, and him from brandy--and who, in brief, had
no imperfection but that of keeping light company at a time; such as
Jinker, the horse-couper, and Gibby Gaethroughwi't, the piper o' Cupar;
o' whilk follies, Mr. Saunderson, he'll mend, he'll mend,'--pronounced
the Bailie.

'Like sour ale in simmer,' added Davie Gellatley, who happened to be
nearer the conclave than they were aware of.

Miss Bradwardine, such as we have described her, with all the simplicity
and curiosity of a recluse, attached herself to the opportunities of
increasing her store of literature which Edward's visit afforded her.
He sent for some of his books from his quarters, and they opened to
her sources of delight of which she had hitherto had no idea. The best
English poets, of every description, and other works on belles lettres,
made a part of this precious cargo. Her music, even her flowers, were
neglected, and Saunders not only mourned over, but began to mutiny
against the labour for which he now scarce received thanks. These
new pleasures became gradually enhanced by sharing them with one of
a kindred taste. Edward's readiness to comment, to recite, to explain
difficult passages, rendered his assistance invaluable; and the wild
romance of his spirit delighted a character too young and inexperienced
to observe its deficiencies. Upon subjects which interested him, and
when quite at ease, he possessed that flow of natural, and somewhat
florid eloquence, which has been supposed as powerful even as figure,
fashion, fame, or fortune, in winning the female heart. There was,
therefore, an increasing danger in this constant intercourse, to poor
Rose's peace of mind, which was the more imminent, as her father was
greatly too much abstracted in his studies, and wrapped up in his own
dignity, to dream of his daughter's incurring it. The daughters of the
house of Bradwardine were, in his opinion, like those of the house of
Bourbon or Austria, placed high above the clouds of passion which
might obfuscate the intellects of meaner females; they moved in another
sphere, were governed by other feelings, and amenable to other rules,
than those of idle and fantastic affection. In short, he shut his eyes
so resolutely to the natural consequences of Edward's intimacy with Miss
Bradwardine, that the whole neighbourhood concluded that he had opened
them to the advantages of a match between his daughter and the wealthy
young Englishman, and pronounced him much less a fool than he had
generally shown himself in cases where his own interest was concerned.

If the Baron, however, had really meditated such an alliance, the
indifference of Waverley would have been an insuperable bar to his
project. Our hero, since mixing more freely with the world, had learned
to think with great shame and confusion upon his mental legend of Saint
Cecilia, and the vexation of these reflections was likely, for some
time at least, to counterbalance the natural susceptibility of his
disposition. Besides, Rose Bradwardine, beautiful and amiable as we
have described her, had not precisely the sort of beauty or merit which
captivates a romantic imagination in early youth. She was too frank, too
confiding, too kind; amiable qualities, undoubtedly, but destructive of
the marvellous, with which a youth of imagination delights to address
the empress of his affections. Was it possible to bow, to tremble,
and to adore, before the timid, yet playful little girl, who now asked
Edward to mend her pen, now to construe a stanza in Tasso, and now
how to spell a very--very long word in her version of it? All these
incidents have their fascination on the mind at a certain period of
life, but not when a youth is entering it, and rather looking out
for some object whose affection may dignify him in his own eyes, than
stooping to one who looks up to him for such distinction. Hence,
though there can be no rule in so capricious a passion, early love is
frequently ambitious in choosing its object; or, which comes to the
same, selects her (as in the case of Saint Cecilia aforesaid) from a
situation that gives fair scope for LE BEAU IDEAL, which the reality of
intimate and familiar life rather tends to limit and impair. I knew a
very accomplished and sensible young man cured of a violent passion for
a pretty woman, whose talents were not equal to her face and figure, by
being permitted to bear her company for a whole afternoon. Thus it is
certain, that had Edward enjoyed such an opportunity of conversing with
Miss Stubbs, Aunt Rachel's precaution would have been unnecessary, for
he would as soon have fallen in love with the dairymaid. And although
Miss Bradwardine was a very different character, it seems probable that
the very intimacy of their intercourse prevented his feeling for her
other sentiments than those of a brother for an amiable and accomplished
sister; while the sentiments of poor Rose were gradually, and without
her being conscious, assuming a shade of warmer affection.

I ought to have said that Edward, when he sent to Dundee for the books
before mentioned, had applied for, and received permission, extending
his leave of absence. But the letter of his commanding-officer contained
a friendly recommendation to him, not to spend his time exclusively with
persons, who, estimable as they might be in a general sense, could
not be supposed well affected to a government which they declined
to acknowledge by taking the oath of allegiance. The letter further
insinuated, though with great delicacy, that although some family
connexions might be supposed to render it necessary for Captain Waverley
to communicate with gentlemen who were in this unpleasant state of
suspicion, yet his father's situation and wishes ought to prevent
his prolonging those attentions into exclusive intimacy. And it was
intimated, that; while his political principles were endangered by
communicating with laymen of this description, he might also receive
erroneous impressions in religion from the prelatic clergy, who so
perversely laboured to set up the royal prerogative in things sacred.

This last insinuation probably induced Waverley to set both down to
the prejudices of his commanding-officer. He was sensible that Mr.
Bradwardine had acted with the most scrupulous delicacy, in never
entering upon any discussion that had the most remote tendency to bias
his mind in political opinions, although he was himself not only a
decided partisan of the exiled family, but had been trusted at different
times with important commissions for their service. Sensible, therefore,
that there was no risk of his being perverted from his allegiance,
Edward felt as if he should do his uncle's old friend injustice in
removing from a house where he gave and received pleasure and amusement,
merely to gratify a prejudiced and ill-judged suspicion, He therefore
wrote a very general answer, assuring his commanding-officer that
his loyalty was not in the most distant danger of contamination, and
continued an honoured guest and inmate of the house of Tully-Veolan.



CHAPTER XV

A CREAGH, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES [A CREAGH was an incursion for plunder,
termed on the Borders a raid.]

When Edward had been a guest at Tully-Veolan nearly six weeks,
he descried one morning, as he took his usual walk before the
breakfast-hour, signs of uncommon perturbation in the family. Four
bare-legged dairymaids, with each an empty milk-pail in her hand, ran
about with frantic gestures, and uttering loud exclamations of surprise,
grief, and resentment. From their appearance, a pagan might have
conceived them a detachment of the celebrated Belides, just come from
their baling penance. As nothing was to be got from this distracted
chorus, excepting 'Lord guide us!' and 'Eh, sirs!' ejaculations which
threw no light upon the cause of their dismay, Waverley repaired to the
forecourt, as it was called, where he beheld Bailie Macwheeble cantering
his white pony down the avenue with all the speed it could muster. He
had arrived, it would seem, upon a hasty summons and was followed by
half a score of peasants from the village, who had no great difficulty
in keeping pace with him.

The Bailie, greatly too busy, and too important, to enter into
explanations with Edward, summoned forth Mr. Saunderson, who appeared
with a countenance in which dismay was mingled with solemnity, and they
immediately entered into close conference. Davie Gellatley was also
seen in the group, idle as Diogenes at Sinope, while his countrymen were
preparing for a siege. His spirits always rose with anything, good
or bad, which occasioned tumult, and he continued frisking, hopping,
dancing, and singing the burden of an old ballad,

Our gear's a' gane,

until, happening to pass too near the Bailie, he received an admonitory
hint from his horsewhip, which converted his songs into lamentation.

Passing from thence towards the garden, Waverley beheld the Baron in
person, measuring and re-measuring, with swift and tremendous strides,
the length of the terrace; his countenance clouded with offended pride
and indignation, and the whole of his demeanour such as seemed to
indicate, that any inquiry concerning the cause of his discomposure
would give pain at least, if not offence. Waverley therefore glided into
the house, without addressing him, and took his way to the breakfast
parlour, where he found his young friend Rose, who, though she neither
exhibited the resentment of her father, the turbid importance of Bailie
Macwheeble, nor the despair of the hand-maidens, seemed vexed and
thoughtful. A single word explained the mystery. 'Your breakfast will
be a disturbed one, Captain Waverley, A party of Caterans have come down
upon us, last night, and have driven off all our milch cows.'