any street whether in London or Paris. But Rose, poor thing, is
sorely discomposed with the firing of the Castle, though I have
proved to her from Blondel and Coehorn, that it is impossible a
bullet can reach these buildings; and, besides, I have it in
charge from his Royal Highness to go to the camp, or leaguer of
our army, to see that the men do condamare vasa, that is, truss up
their bag and baggage for tomorrow's march.'
'That will be easily done by most of us,' said Mac-Ivor, laughing.
'Craving your pardon, Colonel Mac-Ivor, not quite so easily as ye
seem to opine. I grant most of your folk left the Highlands
expedited as it were, and free from the incumbrance of baggage;
but it is unspeakable the quantity of useless sprechery which they
have collected on their march. I saw one fellow of yours (craving
your pardon once more) with a pier-glass upon his back.'
'Ay,' said Fergus, still in good-humour, 'he would have told you,
if you had questioned him, "a ganging foot is aye getting." But
come, my dear Baron, you know as well as I that a hundred Uhlans,
or a single troop of Schmirschitz's Pandours, would make more
havoc in a country than the knight of the mirror and all the rest
of our clans put together.'
'And that is very true likewise,' replied the Baron; 'they are, as
the heathen author says, ferociores in aspectu, mitiores in actu,
of a horrid and grim visage, but more benign in demeanour than
their physiognomy or aspect might infer. But I stand here talking
to you two youngsters when I should be in the King's Park.'
'But you will dine with Waverley and me on your return? I assure
you, Baron, though I can live like a Highlander when needs must, I
remember my Paris education, and understand perfectly faire la
meilleure chere.'
'And wha the deil doubts it,' quoth the Baron, laughing, 'when ye
bring only the cookery and the gude toun must furnish the
materials? Weel, I have some business in the toun too; but I'll
join you at three, if the vivers can tarry so long.'
So saying, he took leave of his friends and went to look after the
charge which had been assigned him.
CHAPTER XLII
A SOLDIER'S DINNER
James of the Needle was a man of his word when whisky was no party
to the contract; and upon this occasion Callum Beg, who still
thought himself in Waverley's debt, since he had declined
accepting compensation at the expense of mine host of the
Candlestick's person, took the opportunity of discharging the
obligation, by mounting guard over the hereditary tailor of
Sliochd nan Ivor; and, as he expressed himself, 'targed him
tightly' till the finishing of the job. To rid himself of this
restraint, Shemus's needle flew through the tartan like lightning;
and as the artist kept chanting some dreadful skirmish of Fin
Macoul, he accomplished at least three stitches to the death of
every hero. The dress was, therefore, soon ready, for the short
coat fitted the wearer, and the rest of the apparel required
little adjustment.
Our hero having now fairly assumed the 'garb of old Gaul,' well
calculated as it was to give an appearance of strength to a figure
which, though tall and well-made, was rather elegant than robust,
I hope my fair readers will excuse him if he looked at himself in
the mirror more than once, and could not help acknowledging that
the reflection seemed that of a very handsome young fellow. In
fact, there was no disguising it. His light-brown hair - for he
wore no periwig, notwithstanding the universal fashion of the
time - became the bonnet which surmounted it. His person promised
firmness and agility, to which the ample folds of the tartan added
an air of dignity. His blue eye seemed of that kind,
Which melted in love, and which kindled in war;
and an air of bashfulness, which was in reality the effect of want
of habitual intercourse with the world, gave interest to his
features, without injuring their grace or intelligence.
'He's a pratty man, a very pratty man,' said Evan Dhu (now Ensign
Maccombich) to Fergus's buxom landlady.
'He's vera weel,' said the Widow Flockhart, 'but no naething sae
weel-far'd as your colonel, ensign.'
'I wasna comparing them,' quoth Evan, 'nor was I speaking about
his being weel-favoured; but only that Mr. Waverley looks clean-
made and deliver, and like a proper lad o' his quarters, that will
not cry barley in a brulzie. And, indeed, he's gleg aneuch at the
broadsword and target. I hae played wi' him mysell at
Glennaquoich, and sae has Vich lan Vohr, often of a Sunday
afternoon.'
'Lord forgie ye, Ensign Maccombich,' said the alarmed
Presbyterian; 'I'm sure the colonel wad never do the like o'
that!'
'Hout! hout! Mrs. Flockhart,' replied the ensign, 'we're young
blude, ye ken; and young saints, auld deils.'
'But will ye fight wi' Sir John Cope the morn, Ensign Maccombich?'
demanded Mrs. Flockhart of her guest.
'Troth I'se ensure him, an he'll bide us, Mrs. Flockhart,' replied
the Gael.
'And will ye face thae tearing chields, the dragoons, Ensign
Maccombich?' again inquired the landlady.
'Claw for claw, as Conan said to Satan, Mrs. Flockhart, and the
deevil tak the shortest nails.'
'And will the colonel venture on the bagganets himsell?'
'Ye may swear it, Mrs. Flockhart; the very first man will he be,
by Saint Phedar.'
'Merciful goodness! and if he's killed amang the redcoats!'
exclaimed the soft-hearted widow.
'Troth, if it should sae befall, Mrs. Flockhart, I ken ane that
will no be living to weep for him. But we maun a' live the day,
and have our dinner; and there's Vich lan Vohr has packed his
dorlach, and Mr. Waverley's wearied wi' majoring yonder afore the
muckle pier-glass; and that grey auld stoor carle, the Baron o'
Bradwardine that shot young Ronald of Ballenkeiroch, he's coming
down the close wi' that droghling coghling bailie body they ca'
Macwhupple, just like the Laird o' Kittlegab's French cook, wi'
his turnspit doggie trindling ahint him, and I am as hungry as a
gled, my bonny dow; sae bid Kate set on the broo', and do ye put
on your pinners, for ye ken Vich lan Vohr winna sit down till ye
be at the head o' the table; - and dinna forget the pint bottle o'
brandy, my woman.'
This hint produced dinner. Mrs. Flockhart, smiling in her weeds
like the sun through a mist, took the head of the table, thinking
within herself, perhaps, that she cared not how long the rebellion
lasted that brought her into company so much above her usual
associates. She was supported by Waverley and the Baron, with the
advantage of the Chieftain vis-a-vis. The men of peace and of war,
that is, Bailie Macwheeble and Ensign Maccombich, after many
profound conges to their superiors and each other, took their
places on each side of the Chieftain. Their fare was excellent,
time, place, and circumstances considered, and Fergus's spirits
were extravagantly high. Regardless of danger, and sanguine from
temper, youth, and ambition, he saw in imagination all his
prospects crowned with success, and was totally indifferent to the
probable alternative of a soldier's grave. The Baron apologized
slightly for bringing Macwheeble. They had been providing, he
said, for the expenses of the campaign. 'And, by my faith,' said
the old man, 'as I think this will be my last, so I just end where
I began: I hae evermore found the sinews of war, as a learned
author calls the caisse mttitaire, mair difficult to come by than
either its flesh, blood, or bones.'
'What! have you raised our only efficient body of cavalry and got
ye none of the louis-d'or out of the Doutelle [Footnote: The
Doutelle was an armed vessel which brought a small supply of money
and arms from France for the use of the insurgents.] to help you?'
'No, Glennaquoich; cleverer fellows have been before me.'
'That's a scandal,' said the young Highlander; 'but you will share
what is left of my subsidy; it will save you an anxious thought
tonight, and will be all one tomorrow, for we shall all be
provided for, one way or other, before the sun sets.' Waverley,
blushing deeply, but with great earnestness, pressed the same
request.
'I thank ye baith, my good lads,' said the Baron, 'but I will not
infringe upon your peculium. Bailie Macwheeble has provided the
sum which is necessary.'
Here the Bailie shifted and fidgeted about in his seat, and
appeared extremely uneasy. At length, after several preliminary
hems, and much tautological expression of his devotion to his
honour's service, by night or day, living or dead, he began to
insinuate, 'that the banks had removed a' their ready cash into
the Castle; that, nae doubt, Sandie Goldie, the silversmith, would
do mickle for his honour; but there was little time to get the
wadset made out; and, doubtless, if his honour Glennaquoich or Mr.
Wauverley could accommodate - '
'Let me hear of no such nonsense, sir,' said the Baron, in a tone
which rendered Macwheeble mute, 'but proceed as we accorded before
dinner, if it be your wish to remain in my service.'
To this peremptory order the Bailie, though he felt as if
condemned to suffer a transfusion of blood from his own veins into
those of the Baron, did not presume to make any reply. After
fidgeting a little while longer, however, he addressed himself to
Glennaquoich, and told him, if his honour had mair ready siller
than was sufficient for his occasions in the field, he could put
it out at use for his honour in safe hands and at great profit at
this time.
At this proposal Fergus laughed heartily, and answered, when he
had recovered his breath - 'Many thanks, Bailie; but you must know,
it is a general custom among us soldiers to make our landlady our
banker. Here, Mrs. Flockhart,' said he, taking four or five broad
pieces out of a well-filled purse and tossing the purse itself,
with its remaining contents, into her apron, 'these will serve my
occasions; do you take the rest. Be my banker if I live, and my
executor if I die; but take care to give something to the Highland
cailliachs [Footnote: Old women, on whom devolved the duty of
lamenting for the dead, which the Irish call keening.] that shall
cry the coronach loudest for the last Vich lan Vohr.'
'It is the testamentum militare,' quoth the Baron, 'whilk, amang
the Romans, was privilegiate to be nuncupative.' But the soft
heart of Mrs. Flockhart was melted within her at the Chieftain's
speech; she set up a lamentable blubbering, and positively refused
to touch the bequest, which Fergus was therefore obliged to
resume.
'Well, then,' said the Chief, 'if I fall, it will go to the
grenadier that knocks my brains out, and I shall take care he
works hard for it.'
Bailie Macwheeble was again tempted to put in his oar; for where
cash was concerned he did not willingly remain silent. 'Perhaps he
had better carry the gowd to Miss Mac-Ivor, in case of mortality
or accidents of war. It might tak the form of a mortis causa
donation in the young leddie's favour, and - wad cost but the
scrape of a pen to mak it out.'
'The young lady,' said Fergus,'should such an event happen, will
have other matters to think of than these wretched louis-d'or.'
'True - undeniable - there's nae doubt o' that; but your honour kens
that a full sorrow - '
'Is endurable by most folk more easily than a hungry one? True,
Bailie, very true; and I believe there may even be some who would
be consoled by such a reflection for the loss of the whole
existing generation. But there is a sorrow which knows neither
hunger nor thirst; and poor Flora - ' He paused, and the whole
company sympathised in his emotion.
The Baron's thoughts naturally reverted to the unprotected state
of his daughter, and the big tear came to the veteran's eye. 'If I
fall, Macwheeble, you have all my papers and know all my affairs;
be just to Rose.'
The Bailie was a man of earthly mould, after all; a good deal of
dirt and dross about him, undoubtedly, but some kindly and just
feelings he had, especially where the Baron or his young mistress
were concerned. He set up a lamentable howl. 'If that doleful day
should come, while Duncan Macwheeble had a boddle it should be
Miss Rose's. He wald scroll for a plack the sheet or she kenn'd
what it was to want; if indeed a' the bonnie baronie o'
Bradwardine and Tully-Veolan, with the fortalice and manor-place
thereof (he kept sobbing and whining at every pause), tofts,
crofts, mosses, muirs - outfield, infield - buildings - orchards -
dove-cots - with the right of net and coble in the water and loch
of Veolan - teinds, parsonage and vicarage - annexis, connexis -
rights of pasturage - feul, feal and divot - parts, pendicles, and
pertinents whatsoever - (here he had recourse to the end of his
long cravat to wipe his eyes, which overflowed, in spite of him,
at the ideas which this technical jargon conjured up) - all as more
fully described in the proper evidents and titles thereof - and
lying within the parish of Bradwardine and the shire of Perth - if,
as aforesaid, they must a' pass from my master's child to Inch-
Grabbit, wha's a Whig and a Hanoverian, and be managed by his
doer, Jamie Howie, wha's no fit to be a birlieman, let be a
bailie - '
The beginning of this lamentation really had something affecting,
but the conclusion rendered laughter irresistible. 'Never mind,
Bailie,' said Ensign Maccombich, 'for the gude auld times of
rugging and riving (pulling and tearing) are come back again, an'
Sneckus Mac-Snackus (meaning, probably, annexis, connexis), and a'
the rest of your friends, maun gie place to the langest claymore.'
'And that claymore shall be ours, Bailie,' said the Chieftain, who
saw that Macwheeble looked very blank at this intimation.
'We'll give them the metal our mountain affords,
Lillibulero, bullen a la,
And in place of broad-pieces, we'll pay with broadswords,
Lero, lero, etc.
With duns and with debts we will soon clear our score,
Lillibulero, etc.
For the man that's thus paid will crave payment no more,
Lero, lero, etc.
[Footnote: These lines, or something like them, occur in an old
magazine of the period.]
But come, Bailie, be not cast down; drink your wine with a joyous
heart; the Baron shall return safe and victorious to Tully-Veolan,
and unite Killancureit's lairdship with his own, since the
cowardly half-bred swine will not turn out for the Prince like a
gentleman.'
'To be sure, they lie maist ewest,' said the Bailie, wiping his
eyes, 'and should naturally fa' under the same factory.'
'And I,' proceeded the Chieftain,'shall take care of myself, too;
for you must know, I have to complete a good work here, by
bringing Mrs. Flockhart into the bosom of the Catholic church, or
at least half way, and that is to your Episcopal meeting-house. O
Baron! if you heard her fine counter-tenor admonishing Kate and
Matty in the morning, you, who understand music, would tremble at
the idea of hearing her shriek in the psalmody of Haddo's Hole.'
'Lord forgie you, colonel, how ye rin on! But I hope your honours
will tak tea before ye gang to the palace, and I maun gang and
mask it for you.'
So saying, Mrs. Flockhart left the gentlemen to their own
conversation, which, as might be supposed, turned chiefly upon the
approaching events of the campaign.
CHAPTER XLIII
THE BALL
Ensign MacCombich having gone to the Highland camp upon duty, and
Bailie Macwheeble having retired to digest his dinner and Evan
Dhu's intimation of martial law in some blind change-house,
Waverley, with the Baron and the Chieftain, proceeded to Holyrood
House. The two last were in full tide of spirits, and the Baron
rallied in his way our hero upon the handsome figure which his new
dress displayed to advantage. 'If you have any design upon the
heart of a bonny Scotch lassie, I would premonish you, when you
address her, to remember and quote the words of Virgilius: -
Nunc insanus amor duri me Martis in armis,
Tela inter media atque adversos detinet hostes;
whilk verses Robertson of Struan, Chief of the Clan Donnochy
(unless the claims of Lude ought to be preferred primo loco), has
thus elegantly rendered: -
For cruel love had gartan'd low my leg,
And clad my hurdies in a philabeg.
Although, indeed, ye wear the trews, a garment whilk I approve
maist of the twa, as mair ancient and seemly.' 'Or rather,' said
Fergus, 'hear my song: -
She wadna hae a Lowland laird,
Nor be an English lady;
But she's away with Duncan Grame,
And he's row'd her in his plaidy.'
By this time they reached the palace of Holyrood, and were
announced respectively as they entered the apartments.
It is but too well known how many gentlemen of rank, education,
and fortune took a concern in the ill-fated and desperate
undertaking of 1745. The ladies, also, of Scotland very generally
espoused the cause of the gallant and handsome young Prince, who
threw himself upon the mercy of his countrymen rather like a hero
of romance than a calculating politician. It is not, therefore, to
be wondered that Edward, who had spent the greater part of his
life in the solemn seclusion of Waverley-Honour, should have been
dazzled at the liveliness and elegance of the scene now exhibited
in the long deserted halls of the Scottish palace. The
accompaniments, indeed, fell short of splendour, being such as the
confusion and hurry of the time admitted; still, however, the
general effect was striking, and, the rank of the company
considered, might well be called brilliant.
It was not long before the lover's eye discovered the object of
his attachment. Flora Mac-Ivor was in the act of returning to her
seat, near the top of the room, with Rose Bradwardine by her side.
Among much elegance and beauty, they had attracted a great degree
of the public attention, being certainly two of the handsomest
women present. The Prince took much notice of both, particularly
of Flora, with whom he danced, a preference which she probably
owed to her foreign education and command of the French and
Italian languages.
When the bustle attending the conclusion of the dance permitted,
Edward almost intuitively followed Fergus to the place where Miss
Mac-Ivor was seated. The sensation of hope with which he had
nursed his affection in absence of the beloved object seemed to
vanish in her presence, and, like one striving to recover the
particulars of a forgotten dream, he would have given the world at
that moment to have recollected the grounds on which he had
founded expectations which now seemed so delusive. He accompanied
Fergus with downcast eyes, tingling ears, and the feelings of the
criminal who, while the melancholy cart moves slowly through the
crowds that have assembled to behold his execution, receives no
clear sensation either from the noise which fills his ears or the
tumult on which he casts his wandering look. Flora seemed a
little - a very little - affected and discomposed at his approach.
'I bring you an adopted son of Ivor,' said Fergus.
'And I receive him as a second brother,' replied Flora.
There was a slight emphasis on the word, which would have escaped
every ear but one that was feverish with apprehension. It was,
however, distinctly marked, and, combined with her whole tone and
manner, plainly intimated, 'I will never think of Mr. Waverley as
a more intimate connexion.' Edward stopped, bowed, and looked at
Fergus, who bit his lip, a movement of anger which proved that he
also had put a sinister interpretation on the reception which his
sister had given his friend. 'This, then, is an end of my day-
dream!' Such was Waverley's first thought, and it was so
exquisitely painful as to banish from his cheek every drop of
blood.
'Good God!' said Rose Bradwardine, 'he is not yet recovered!'
These words, which she uttered with great emotion, were overheard
by the Chevalier himself, who stepped hastily forward, and, taking
Waverley by the hand, inquired kindly after his health, and added
that he wished to speak with him. By a strong and sudden effort;
which the circumstances rendered indispensable, Waverley recovered
himself so far as to follow the Chevalier in silence to a recess
in the apartment.
Here the Prince detained him some time, asking various questions
about the great Tory and Catholic families of England, their
connexions, their influence, and the state of their affections
towards the house of Stuart. To these queries Edward could not at
any time have given more than general answers, and it may be
supposed that, in the present state of his feelings, his responses
were indistinct even to confusion. The Chevalier smiled once or
twice at the incongruity of his replies, but continued the same
style of conversation, although he found himself obliged to occupy
the principal share of it, until he perceived that Waverley had
recovered his presence of mind. It is probable that this long
audience was partly meant to further the idea which the Prince
desired should be entertained among his followers, that Waverley
was a character of political influence. But it appeared, from his
concluding expressions, that he had a different and good-natured
motive, personal to our hero, for prolonging the conference. 'I
cannot resist the temptation,' he said, 'of boasting of my own
discretion as a lady's confidant. You see, Mr. Waverley, that I
know all, and I assure you I am deeply interested in the affair.
But, my good young friend, you must put a more severe restraint
upon your feelings. There are many here whose eyes can see as
clearly as mine, but the prudence of whose tongues may not be
equally trusted,'
So saying, he turned easily away and joined a circle of officers
at a few paces' distance, leaving Waverley to meditate upon his
parting expression, which, though not intelligible to him in its
whole purport, was sufficiently so in the caution which the last
word recommended. Making, therefore, an effort to show himself
worthy of the interest which his new master had expressed, by
instant obedience to his recommendation, he walked up to the spot
where Flora and Miss Bradwardine were still seated, and having
made his compliments to the latter, he succeeded, even beyond his
own expectation, in entering into conversation upon general
topics.
If, my dear reader, thou hast ever happened to take post-horses
at - - or at - - (one at least of which blanks, or more probably
both, you will be able to fill up from an inn near your own
residence), you must have observed, and doubtless with sympathetic
pain, the reluctant agony with which the poor jades at first apply
their galled necks to the collars of the harness. But when the
irresistible arguments of the post-boy have prevailed upon them to
proceed a mile or two, they will become callous to the first
sensation; and being warm in the harness, as the said post-boy may
term it, proceed as if their withers were altogether unwrung. This
simile so much corresponds with the state of Waverley's feelings
in the course of this memorable evening, that I prefer it
(especially as being, I trust, wholly original) to any more
splendid illustration with which Byshe's 'Art of Poetry' might
supply me.
Exertion, like virtue, is its own reward; and our hero had,
moreover, other stimulating motives for persevering in a display
of affected composure and indifference to Flora's obvious
unkindness. Pride, which supplies its caustic as an useful, though
severe, remedy for the wounds of affection, came rapidly to his
aid. Distinguished by the favour of a prince; destined, he had
room to hope, to play a conspicuous part in the revolution which
awaited a mighty kingdom; excelling, probably, in mental
acquirements, and equalling at least in personal accomplishments,
most of the noble and distinguished persons with whom he was now
ranked; young, wealthy, and high-born, - could he, or ought he, to
droop beneath the frown of a capricious beauty?
O nymph, unrelenting and cold as thou art,
My bosom is proud as thine own.
With the feeling expressed in these beautiful lines (which,
however, were not then written), [Footnote: They occur in Miss
Seward's fine verses, beginning - 'To thy rocks, stormy Lannow,
adieu.'] Waverley determined upon convincing Flora that he was not
to be depressed by a rejection in which his vanity whispered that
perhaps she did her own prospects as much injustice as his. And,
to aid this change of feeling, there lurked the secret and
unacknowledged hope that she might learn to prize his affection
more highly, when she did not conceive it to be altogether within
her own choice to attract or repulse it. There was a mystic tone
of encouragement, also, in the Chevalier's words, though he feared
they only referred to the wishes of Fergus in favour of an union
between him and his sister. But the whole circumstances of time,
place, and incident combined at once to awaken his imagination and
to call upon him for a manly and decisive tone of conduct, leaving
to fate to dispose of the issue. Should he appear to be the only
one sad and disheartened on the eve of battle, how greedily would
the tale be commented upon by the slander which had been already
but too busy with his fame! Never, never, he internally resolved,
shall my unprovoked enemies possess such an advantage over my
reputation.
Under the influence of these mixed sensations, and cheered at
times by a smile of intelligence and approbation from the Prince
as he passed the group, Waverley exerted his powers of fancy,
animation, and eloquence, and attracted the general admiration of
the company. The conversation gradually assumed the tone best
qualified for the display of his talents and acquisitions. The
gaiety of the evening was exalted in character, rather than
checked, by the approaching dangers of the morrow. All nerves were
strung for the future, and prepared to enjoy the present. This
mood of mind is highly favourable for the exercise of the powers
of imagination, for poetry, and for that eloquence which is allied
to poetry. Waverley, as we have elsewhere observed, possessed at
times a wonderful flow of rhetoric; and on the present occasion,
he touched more than once the higher notes of feeling, and then
again ran off in a wild voluntary of fanciful mirth. He was
supported and excited by kindred spirits, who felt the same
impulse of mood and time; and even those of more cold and
calculating habits were hurried along by the torrent. Many ladies
declined the dance, which still went forward, and under various
pretences joined the party to which the 'handsome young
Englishman' seemed to have attached himself. He was presented to
several of the first rank, and his manners, which for the present
were altogether free from the bashful restraint by which, in a
moment of less excitation, they were usually clouded, gave
universal delight.
Flora Mac-Ivor appeared to be the only female present who regarded
him with a degree of coldness and reserve; yet even she could not
suppress a sort of wonder at talents which, in the course of their
acquaintance, she had never seen displayed with equal brilliancy
and impressive effect. I do not know whether she might not feel a
momentary regret at having taken so decisive a resolution upon the
addresses of a lover who seemed fitted so well to fill a high
place in the highest stations of society. Certainly she had
hitherto accounted among the incurable deficiencies of Edward's
disposition the mauvaise honte which, as she had been educated in
the first foreign circles, and was little acquainted with the
shyness of English manners, was in her opinion too nearly related
to timidity and imbecility of disposition. But if a passing wish
occurred that Waverley could have rendered himself uniformly thus
amiable and attractive, its influence was momentary; for
circumstances had arisen since they met which rendered in her eyes
the resolution she had formed respecting him final and
irrevocable.
With opposite feelings Rose Bradwardine bent her whole soul to
listen. She felt a secret triumph at the public tribute paid to
one whose merit she had learned to prize too early and too fondly.
Without a thought of jealousy, without a feeling of fear, pain, or
doubt, and undisturbed by a single selfish consideration, she
resigned herself to the pleasure of observing the general murmur
of applause. When Waverley spoke, her ear was exclusively filled
with his voice, when others answered, her eye took its turn of
observation, and seemed to watch his reply. Perhaps the delight
which she experienced in the course of that evening, though
transient, and followed by much sorrow, was in its nature the most
pure and disinterested which the human mind is capable of
enjoying.
'Baron,' said the Chevalier, 'I would not trust my mistress in the
company of your young friend. He is really, though perhaps
somewhat romantic, one of the most fascinating young men whom I
have ever seen.'
'And by my honour, sir,' replied the Baron,'the lad can sometimes
be as dowff as a sexagenary like myself. If your Royal Highness
had seen him dreaming and dozing about the banks of Tully-Veolan
like an hypochondriac person, or, as Burton's "Anatomia" hath it,
a phrenesiac or lethargic patient, you would wonder where he hath
sae suddenly acquired all this fine sprack festivity and
jocularity.'
'Truly,' said Fergus Mac-Ivor, 'I think it can only be the
inspiration of the tartans; for, though Waverley be always a young
fellow of sense and honour, I have hitherto often found him a very
absent and inattentive companion.'
'We are the more obliged to him,' said the Prince, 'for having
reserved for this evening qualities which even such intimate
friends had not discovered. But come, gentlemen, the night
advances, and the business of tomorrow must be early thought upon.
Each take charge of his fair partner, and honour a small
refreshment with your company.'
He led the way to another suite of apartments, and assumed the
seat and canopy at the head of a long range of tables with an air
of dignity, mingled with courtesy, which well became his high
birth and lofty pretensions. An hour had hardly flown away when
the musicians played the signal for parting so well known in
Scotland. [Footnote: Which is, or was wont to be, the old air of
'Good-night and joy be wi' you a'.]
'Good-night, then,' said the Chevalier, rising; 'goodnight, and
joy be with you! Good-night, fair ladies, who have so highly
honoured a proscribed and banished Prince! Good-night, my brave
friends; may the happiness we have this evening experienced be an
omen of our return to these our paternal halls, speedily and in
triumph, and of many and many future meetings of mirth and
pleasure in the palace of Holyrood!'
When the Baron of Bradwardine afterwards mentioned this adieu of
the Chevalier, he never failed to repeat, in a melancholy tone,
'Audiit, et voti Phoebus succedere partem
Mente dedit; partem volucres dispersit in auras;
which,' as he added, 'is weel rendered into English metre by my
friend Bangour: -
Ae half the prayer wi' Phoebus grace did find,
The t'other half he whistled down the wind.'
CHAPTER XLIV
THE MARCH
The conflicting passions and exhausted feelings of Waverley had
resigned him to late but sound repose. He was dreaming of
Glennaquoich, and had transferred to the halls of lan nan Chaistel
the festal train which so lately graced those of Holyrood. The
pibroch too was distinctly heard; and this at least was no
delusion, for the 'proud step of the chief piper' of the 'chlain
MacIvor' was perambulating the court before the door of his
Chieftain's quarters, and as Mrs. Flockhart, apparently no friend
to his minstrelsy, was pleased to observe, 'garring the very
stane-and-lime wa's dingle wi' his screeching.' Of course it soon
became too powerful for Waverley's dream, with which it had at
first rather harmonised.
The sound of Callum's brogues in his apartment (for Mac-Ivor had
again assigned Waverley to his care) was the next note of parting.
'Winna yer honour bang up? Vich lan Vohr and ta Prince are awa to
the lang green glen ahint the clachan, tat they ca' the King's
Park, [Footnote: The main body of the Highland army encamped, or
rather bivouacked, in that part of the King's Park which lies
towards the village of Duddingston.] and mony ane's on his ain
shanks the day that will be carried on ither folk's ere night.'
Waverley sprung up, and, with Callum's assistance and
instructions, adjusted his tartans in proper costume. Callum told
him also,' tat his leather dorlach wi' the lock on her was come
frae Doune, and she was awa again in the wain wi' Vich Ian Vohr's
walise.'
By this periphrasis Waverley readily apprehended his portmanteau
was intended. He thought upon the mysterious packet of the maid of
the cavern, which seemed always to escape him when within his very
grasp. But this was no time for indulgence of curiosity; and
having declined Mrs. Flockhart's compliment of a MORNING, i.e. a
matutinal dram, being probably the only man in the Chevalier's
army by whom such a courtesy would have been rejected, he made his
adieus and departed with Callum.
'Callum,' said he, as they proceeded down a dirty close to gain
the southern skirts of the Canongate, 'what shall I do for a
horse?'
'Ta deil ane ye maun think o',' said Callum. 'Vich Ian Vohr's
marching on foot at the head o' his kin (not to say ta Prince, wha
does the like), wi' his target on his shoulder; and ye maun e'en
be neighbour-like.'
'And so I will, Callum, give me my target; so, there we are fixed.
How does it look?'
'Like the bra' Highlander tat's painted on the board afore the
mickle change-house they ca' Luckie Middlemass's,' answered
Callum; meaning, I must observe, a high compliment, for in his
opinion Luckie Middlemass's sign was an exquisite specimen of art.
Waverley, however, not feeling the full force of this polite
simile, asked him no further questions.
Upon extricating themselves from the mean and dirty suburbs of the
metropolis, and emerging into the open air, Waverley felt a
renewal of both health and spirits, and turned his recollection
with firmness upon the events of the preceding evening, and with
hope and resolution towards those of the approaching day.
When he had surmounted a small craggy eminence called St.
Leonard's Hill, the King's Park, or the hollow between the
mountain of Arthur's Seat and the rising grounds on which the
southern part of Edinburgh is now built, lay beneath him, and
displayed a singular and animating prospect. It was occupied by
the army of the Highlanders, now in the act of preparing for their
march. Waverley had already seen something of the kind at the
hunting-match which he attended with Fergus MacIvor; but this was
on a scale of much greater magnitude, and incomparably deeper
interest. The rocks, which formed the background of the scene, and
the very sky itself, rang with the clang of the bagpipers,
summoning forth, each with his appropriate pibroch, his chieftain
and clan. The mountaineers, rousing themselves from their couch
under the canopy of heaven with the hum and bustle of a confused
and irregular multitude, like bees alarmed and arming in their
hives, seemed to possess all the pliability of movement fitted to
execute military manoeuvres. Their motions appeared spontaneous
and confused, but the result was order and regularity; so that a
general must have praised the conclusion, though a martinet might
have ridiculed the method by which it was attained.
The sort of complicated medley created by the hasty arrangements
of the various clans under their respective banners, for the
purpose of getting into the order of march, was in itself a gay
and lively spectacle. They had no tents to striket having
generally, and by choice, slept upon the open field, although the
autumn was now waning and the nights began to be frosty. For a
little space, while they were getting into order, there was
exhibited a changing, fluctuating, and confused appearance of
waving tartans and floating plumes, and of banners displaying the
proud gathering word of Clanronald, Ganion Coheriga (Gainsay who
dares), Loch-Sloy, the watchword of the MacFarlanes; Forth,
fortune, and fill the fetters, the motto of the Marquis of
Tullibardine; Bydand, that of Lord Lewis Gordon, and the
appropriate signal words and emblems of many other chieftains and
clans.
At length the mixed and wavering multitude arranged themselves
into a narrow and dusky column of great length, stretching through
the whole extent of the valley. In the front of the column the
standard of the Chevalier was displayed, bearing a red cross upon
a white ground, with the motto Tandem Triumphans. The few cavalry,
being chiefly Lowland gentry, with their domestic servants and
retainers, formed the advanced guard of the army; and their
standards, of which they had rather too many in respect of their
numbers, were seen waving upon the extreme verge of the horizon.
Many horsemen of this body, among whom Waverley accidentally
remarked Balmawhapple and his lieutenant, Jinker (which last,
however, had been reduced, with several others, by the advice of
the Baron of Bradwardine, to the situation of what he called
reformed officers, or reformadoes), added to the liveliness,
though by no means to the regularity, of the scene, by galloping
their horses as fast forward as the press would permit, to join
their proper station in the van. The fascinations of the Circes of
the High Street, and the potations of strength with which they had
been drenched over night, had probably detained these heroes
within the walls of Edinburgh somewhat later than was consistent
with their morning duty. Of such loiterers, the prudent took the
longer and circuitous, but more open, route to attain their place
in the march, by keeping at some distance from the infantry, and
making their way through the inclosures to the right, at the
expense of leaping over or pulling down the drystone fences. The
irregular appearance and vanishing of these small parties of
horsemen, as well as the confusion occasioned by those who
endeavoured, though generally without effect, to press to the
front through the crowd of Highlanders, maugre their curses,
oaths, and opposition, added to the picturesque wildness what it
took from the military regularity of the scene.
While Waverley gazed upon this remarkable spectacle, rendered yet
more impressive by the occasional discharge of cannon-shot from
the Castle at the Highland guards as they were withdrawn from its
vicinity to join their main body, Callum, with his usual freedom
of interference, reminded him that Vich lan Vohr's folk were
nearly at the head of the column of march which was still distant,
and that 'they would gang very fast after the cannon fired.' Thus
admonished, Waverley walked briskly forward, yet often casting a
glance upon the darksome clouds of warriors who were collected
before and beneath him. A nearer view, indeed, rather diminished
the effect impressed on the mind by the more distant appearance of
the army. The leading men of each clan were well armed with broad-
sword, target, and fusee, to which all added the dirk, and most
the steel pistol. But these consisted of gentlemen, that is,
relations of the chief, however distant, and who had an immediate