burning shame to put a martingale upon the puir thing, when he
would needs ride her wi' a curb of half a yard lang; and that he
could na but bring himsell (not to say her) to some mischief, by
flinging her down, or otherwise; whereas, if he had had a wee bit
rinnin ring on the snaffle, she wad ha' rein'd as cannily as a
cadger's pownie.'
Such was the elegy of the Laird of Balmawhapple. [Footnote: See
Note 9.]
CHAPTER XLVIII
AN UNEXPECTED EMBARRASSMENT
When the battle was over, and all things coming into order, the
Baron of Bradwardine, returning from the duty of the day, and
having disposed those under his command in their proper stations,
sought the Chieftain of Glennaquoich and his friend Edward
Waverley. He found the former busied in determining disputes among
his clansmen about points of precedence and deeds of valour,
besides sundry high and doubtful questions concerning plunder. The
most important of the last respected the property of a gold watch,
which had once belonged to some unfortunate English officer. The
party against whom judgment was awarded consoled himself by
observing, 'She (i.e. the watch, which he took for a living
animal) died the very night Vich lan Vohr gave her to Murdoch';
the machine, having, in fact, stopped for want of winding up.
It was just when this important question was decided that the
Baron of Bradwardine, with a careful and yet important expression
of countenance, joined the two young men. He descended from his
reeking charger, the care of which he recommended to one of his
grooms. 'I seldom ban, sir,' said he to the man; 'but if you play
any of your hound's-foot tricks, and leave puir Berwick before
he's sorted, to rin after spuilzie, deil be wi' me if I do not
give your craig a thraw.' He then stroked with great complacency
the animal which had borne him through the fatigues of the day,
and having taken a tender leave of him - ' Weel, my good young
friends, a glorious and decisive victory,' said he; 'but these
loons of troopers fled ower soon. I should have liked to have
shown you the true points of the pralium equestre, or equestrian
combat, whilk their cowardice has postponed, and which I hold to
be the pride and terror of warfare. Weel - I have fought once more
in this old quarrel, though I admit I could not be so far BEN as
you lads, being that it was my point of duty to keep together our
handful of horse. And no cavalier ought in any wise to begrudge
honour that befalls his companions, even though they are ordered
upon thrice his danger, whilk, another time, by the blessing of
God, may be his own case. But, Glennaquoich, and you, Mr.
Waverley, I pray ye to give me your best advice on a matter of
mickle weight, and which deeply affects the honour of the house of
Bradwardine. I crave your pardon, Ensign Maccombich, and yours,
Inveraughlin, and yours, Edderalshendrach, and yours, sir.'
The last person he addressed was Ballenkeiroch, who, remembering
the death of his son, loured on him with a look of savage
defiance. The Baron, quick as lightning at taking umbrage, had
already bent his brow when Glennaquoich dragged his major from the
spot, and remonstrated with him, in the authoritative tone of a
chieftain, on the madness of reviving a quarrel in such a moment.
'The ground is cumbered with carcasses,' said the old mountaineer,
turning sullenly away; 'ONE MORE would hardly have been kenn'dupon
it; and if it wasna for yoursell, Vich lan Vohr, that one should
be Bradwardine's or mine.'
The Chief soothed while he hurried him away; and then returned to
the Baron. 'It is Ballenkeiroch,' he said, in an under and
confidential voice, 'father of the young man who fell eight years
since in the unlucky affair at the mains.'
'Ah!' said the Baron, instantly relaxing the doubtful sternness of
his features, 'I can take naickle frae a man to whom I have
unhappily rendered sic a displeasure as that. Ye were right to
apprise me, Glennaquoich; he may look as black as midnight at
Martinmas ere Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine shall say he does him
wrang. Ah! I have nae male lineage, and I should bear with one I
have made childless, though you are aware the blood-wit was made
up to your ain satisfaction by assythment, and that I have since
expedited letters of slains. Weel, as I have said, I have no male
issue, and yet it is needful that I maintain the honour of my
house; and it is on that score I prayed ye for your peculiar and
private attention.'
The two young men awaited to hear him, in anxious curiosity.
'I doubt na, lads,' he proceeded, 'but your education has been sae
seen to that ye understand the true nature of the feudal tenures?'
Fergus, afraid of an endless dissertation, answered, 'Intimately,
Baron,' and touched Waverley as a signal to express no ignorance.
'And ye are aware, I doubt not, that the holding of the barony of
Bradwardine is of a nature alike honourable and peculiar, being
blanch (which Craig opines ought to be Latinated blancum, or
rather francum, a free holding) pro sermtio detrahendi, seu
exuendi, caligas regis post battalliam.' Here Fergus turned his
falcon eye upon Edward, with an almost imperceptible rise of his
eyebrow, to which his shoulders corresponded in the same degree of
elevation. 'Now, twa points of dubitation occur to me upon this
topic. First, whether this service, or feudal homage, be at any
event due to the person of the Prince, the words being, per
expressum, caligas REGIS, the boots of the king himself; and I
pray your opinion anent that particular before we proceed
farther.'
'Why, he is Prince Regent,' answered Mac-Ivor, with laudable
composure of countenance; 'and in the court of France all the
honours are rendered to the person of the Regent which are due to
that of the King. Besides, were I to pull off either of their
boots, I would render that service to the young Chevalier ten
times more willingly than to his father.'
' Ay, but I talk not of personal predilections. However, your
authority is of great weight as to the usages of the court of
France; and doubtless the Prince, as alter ego, may have a right
to claim the homagium of the great tenants of the crown, since all
faithful subjects are commanded, in the commission of regency, to
respect him as the King's own person. Far, therefore, be it from
me to diminish the lustre of his authority by withholding this act
of homage, so peculiarly calculated to give it splendour; for I
question if the Emperor of Germany hath his boots taken off by a
free baron of the empire. But here lieth the second difficulty -
the Prince wears no boots, but simply brogues and trews.'
This last dilemma had almost disturbed Fergus's gravity.
'Why,' said he, 'you know, Baron, the proverb tells us, "It's ill
taking the breeks off a Highlandman," and the boots are here in
the same predicament.'
'The word caligce, however,' continued the Baron, 'though I admit
that, by family tradition, and even in our ancient evidents, it is
explained "lie-boots," means, in its primitive sense, rather
sandals; and Caius Caesar, the nephew and successor of Caius
Tiberius, received the agnomen of Caligula, a caligulis sine
caligis levioribus, quibus adolescentior usus fuerat in exercitu
Germanici patris sui. And the caligce were also proper to the
monastic bodies; for we read in an ancient glossarium upon the
rule of Saint Benedict, in the Abbey of Saint Amand, that caligae
were tied with latchets.'
'That will apply to the brogues,' said Fergus.
'It will so, my dear Glennaquoich, and the words are express:
Caligae, dicta sunt quia ligantur; nam socci non ligantur, sed
tantum intromittuntur; that is, caligae are denominated from the
ligatures wherewith they are bound; whereas socci, which may be
analogous to our mules, whilk the English denominate slippers, are
only slipped upon the feet. The words of the charter are also
alternative, exuere seu detrahere; that is, to undo, as in the
case of sandals or brogues, and to pull of, as we say vernacularly
concerning boots. Yet I would we had more light; but I fear there
is little chance of finding hereabout any erudite author de re
vestiaria.'
'I should doubt it very much,' said the Chieftain, looking around
on the straggling Highlanders, who were returning loaded with
spoils of the slain,'though the res vestiaria itself seems to be
in some request at present.'
This remark coming within the Baron's idea of jocularity, he
honoured it with a smile, but immediately resumed what to him
appeared very serious business.
'Bailie Macwheeble indeed holds an opinion that this honorary
service is due, from its very nature, si petatur tantum; only if
his Royal Highness shall require of the great tenant of the crown
to perform that personal duty; and indeed he pointed out the case
in Dirleton's Doubts and Queries, Grippit versus Spicer, anent the
eviction of an estate ob non solutum canonem; that is, for non-
payment of a feu-duty of three pepper-corns a year, whilk were
taxt to be worth seven-eighths of a penny Scots, in whilk the
defender was assoilzied. But I deem it safest, wi' your good
favour, to place myself in the way of rendering the Prince this
service, and to proffer performance thereof; and I shall cause the
Bailie to attend with a schedule of a protest, whilk he has here
prepared (taking out a paper), intimating, that if it shall be his
Royal Highness's pleasure to accept of other assistance at pulling
off his caligae (whether the same shall be rendered boots or
brogues) save that of the said Baron of Bradwardine, who is in
presence ready and willing to perform the same, it shall in no
wise impinge upon or prejudice the right of the said Cosmo Comyne
Bradwardine to perform the said service in future; nor shall it
give any esquire, valet of the chamber, squire, or page, whose
assistance it may please his Royal Highness to employ, any right,
title, or ground for evicting from the said Cosmo Comyne
Bradwardine the estate and barony of Bradwardine, and others held
as aforesaid, by the due and faithful performance thereof.'
Fergus highly applauded this arrangement; and the Baron took a
friendly leave of them, with a smile of contented importance upon
his visage.
'Long live our dear friend the Baron,' exclaimed the Chief, as
soon as he was out of hearing, 'for the most absurd original that
exists north of the Tweed! I wish to heaven I had recommended him
to attend the circle this evening with a boot-ketch under his arm.
I think he might have adopted the suggestion if it had been made
with suitable gravity.'
'And how can you take pleasure in making a man of his worth so
ridiculous?'
'Begging pardon, my dear Waverley, you are as ridiculous as he.
Why, do you not see that the man's whole mind is wrapped up in
this ceremony? He has heard and thought of it since infancy as the
most august privilege and ceremony in the world; and I doubt not
but the expected pleasure of performing it was a principal motive
with him for taking up arms. Depend upon it, had I endeavoured to
divert him from exposing himself he would have treated me as an
ignorant, conceited coxcomb, or perhaps might have taken a fancy
to cut my throat; a pleasure which he once proposed to himself
upon some point of etiquette not half so important, in his eyes,
as this matter of boots or brogues, or whatever the caliga shall
finally be pronounced by the learned. But I must go to
headquarters, to prepare the Prince for this extraordinary scene.
My information will be well taken, for it will give him a hearty
laugh at present, and put him on his guard against laughing when
it might be very mal-a-propos. So, au revoir, my dear Waverley.'
CHAPTER XLIX
THE ENGLISH PRISONER
The first occupation of Waverley, after he departed from the
Chieftain, was to go in quest of the officer whose life he had
saved. He was guarded, along with his companions in misfortune,
who were very numerous, in a gentleman's house near the field of
battle.
On entering the room where they stood crowded together, Waverley
easily recognised the object of his visit, not only by the
peculiar dignity of his appearance, but by the appendage of Dugald
Mahony, with his battleaxe, who had stuck to him from the moment
of his captivity as if he had been skewered to his side. This
close attendance was perhaps for the purpose of securing his
promised reward from Edward, but it also operated to save the
English gentleman from being plundered in the scene of general
confusion; for Dugald sagaciously argued that the amount of the
salvage which he might be allowed would be regulated by the state
of the prisoner when he should deliver him over to Waverley. He
hastened to assure Waverley, therefore, with more words than he
usually employed, that he had 'keepit ta sidier roy haill, and
that he wasna a plack the waur since the fery moment when his
honour forbad her to gie him a bit clamhewit wi' her Lochaber-
axe.'
Waverley assured Dugald of a liberal recompense, and, approaching
the English officer, expressed his anxiety to do anything which
might contribute to his convenience under his present unpleasant
circumstances.
'I am not so inexperienced a soldier, sir,' answered the
Englishman, 'as to complain of the fortune of war. I am only
grieved to see those scenes acted in our own island which I have
often witnessed elsewhere with comparative indifference.'
'Another such day as this,' said Waverley, 'and I trust the cause
of your regrets will be removed, and all will again return to
peace and order.'
The officer smiled and shook his head. 'I must not forget my
situation so far as to attempt a formal confutation of that
opinion; but, notwithstanding your success and the valour which
achieved it, you have undertaken a task to which your strength
appears wholly inadequate.'
At this moment Fergus pushed into the press.
'Come, Edward, come along; the Prince has gone to Pinkie House for
the night; and we must follow, or lose the whole ceremony of the
caligae. Your friend, the Baron, has been guilty of a great piece
of cruelty; he has insisted upon dragging Bailie Macwheeble out to
the field of battle. Now, you must know, the Bailie's greatest
horror is an armed Highlander or a loaded gun; and there he
stands, listening to the Baron's instructions concerning the
protest, ducking his head like a sea-gull at the report of every
gun and pistol that our idle boys are firing upon the fields, and
undergoing, by way of penance, at every symptom of flinching a
severe rebuke from his patron, who would not admit the discharge
of a whole battery of cannon, within point-blank distance, as an
apology for neglecting a discourse in which the honour of his
family is interested.'
'But how has Mr. Bradwardine got him to venture so far?' said
Edward.
'Why, he had come as far as Musselburgh, I fancy, in hopes of
making some of our wills; and the peremptory commands of the Baron
dragged him forward to Preston after the battle was over. He
complains of one or two of our ragamuffins having put him in peril
of his life by presenting their pieces at him; but as they limited
his ransom to an English penny, I don't think we need trouble the
provost-marshal upon that subject. So come along, Waverley.'
'Waverley!' said the English officer, with great emotion;' the
nephew of Sir Everard Waverley, of - - shire?'
'The same, sir,' replied our hero, somewhat surprised at the tone
in which he was addressed.
'I am at once happy and grieved,' said the prisoner, 'to have met
with you.'
'I am ignorant, sir,' answered Waverley, 'how I have deserved so
much interest.'
'Did your uncle never mention a friend called Talbot?'
'I have heard him talk with great regard of such a person,'
replied Edward; 'a colonel, I believe, in the army, and the
husband of Lady Emily Blandeville; but I thought Colonel Talbot
had been abroad.'
'I am just returned,' answered the officer; 'and being in
Scotland, thought it my duty to act where my services promised to
be useful. Yes, Mr. Waverley, I am that Colonel Talbot, the
husband of the lady you have named; and I am proud to acknowledge
that I owe alike my professional rank and my domestic happiness to
your generous and noble-minded relative. Good God! that I should
find his nephew in such a dress, and engaged in such a cause!'
'Sir,' said Fergus, haughtily, 'the dress and cause are those of
men of birth and honour.'
'My situation forbids me to dispute your assertion,' said Colonel
Talbot; 'otherwise it were no difficult matter to show that
neither courage nor pride of lineage can gild a bad cause. But,
with Mr. Waverley's permission and yours, sir, if yours also must
be asked, I would willingly speak a few words with him on affairs
connected with his own family.'
'Mr. Waverley, sir, regulates his own motions. You will follow me,
I suppose, to Pinkie,' said Fergus, turning to Edward, 'when you
have finished your discourse with this new acquaintance?' So
saying, the Chief of Glennaquoich adjusted his plaid with rather
more than his usual air of haughty assumption and left the
apartment.
The interest of Waverley readily procured for Colonel Talbot the
freedom of adjourning to a large garden belonging to his place of
confinement. They walked a few paces in silence, Colonel Talbot
apparently studying how to open what he had to say; at length he
addressed Edward.
'Mr. Waverley, you have this day saved my life; and yet I would to
God that I had lost it, ere I had found you wearing the uniform
and cockade of these men.'
'I forgive your reproach, Colonel Talbot; it is well meant, and
your education and prejudices render it natural. But there is
nothing extraordinary in finding a man whose honour has been
publicly and unjustly assailed in the situation which promised
most fair to afford him satisfaction on his calumniators.'
'I should rather say, in the situation most likely to confirm the
reports which they have circulated,' said Colonel Talbot, 'by
following the very line of conduct ascribed to you. Are you aware,
Mr. Waverley, of the infinite distress, and even danger, which
your present conduct has occasioned to your nearest relatives?'
'Danger!'
'Yes, sir, danger. When I left England your uncle and father had
been obliged to find bail to answer a charge of treason, to which
they were only admitted by the exertion of the most powerful
interest. I came down to Scotland with the sole purpose of
rescuing you from the gulf into which you have precipitated
yourself; nor can I estimate the consequences to your family of
your having openly joined the rebellion, since the very suspicion
of your intention was so perilous to them. Most deeply do I regret
that I did not meet you before this last and fatal error.'
'I am really ignorant,' said Waverley, in a tone of reserve, 'why
Colonel Talbot should have taken so much trouble on my account.'
'Mr. Waverley,' answered Talbot, 'I am dull at apprehending irony;
and therefore I shall answer your words according to their plain
meaning. I am indebted to your uncle for benefits greater than
those which a son owes to a father. I acknowledge to him the duty
of a son; and as I know there is no manner in which I can requite
his kindness so well as by serving you, I will serve you, if
possible, whether you will permit me or no. The personal
obligation which you have this day laid me under (although, in
common estimation, as great as one human being can bestow on
another) adds nothing to my zeal on your behalf; nor can that zeal
be abated by any coolness with which you may please to receive
it.'
'Your intentions may be kind, sir,' said Waverley, drily; 'but
your language is harsh, or at least peremptory.'
'On my return to England,' continued Colonel Talbot, 'after long
absence, I found your uncle, Sir Everard Waverley, in the custody
of a king's messenger, in consequence of the suspicion brought
upon him by your conduct. He is my oldest friend - how often shall
I repeat it? - my best benefactor! he sacrificed his own views of
happiness to mine; he never uttered a word, he never harboured a
thought, that benevolence itself might not have thought or spoken.
I found this man in confinement, rendered harsher to him by his
habits of life, his natural dignity of feeling, and - forgive me,
Mr. Waverley - by the cause through which this calamity had come
upon him. I cannot disguise from you my feelings upon this
occasion; they were most painfully unfavorable to you. Having by
my family interest, which you probably know is not inconsiderable,
succeeded in obtaining Sir Everard's release, I set out for
Scotland. I saw Colonel Gardiner, a man whose fate alone is
sufficient to render this insurrection for ever execrable. In the
course of conversation with him I found that, from late
circumstances, from a reexamination of the persons engaged in the
mutiny, and from his original good opinion of your character, he
was much softened towards you; and I doubted not that, if I could
be so fortunate as to discover you, all might yet be well. But
this unnatural rebellion has ruined all. I have, for the first
time in a long and active military life, seen Britons disgrace
themselves by a panic flight, and that before a foe without either
arms or discipline. And now I find the heir of my dearest friend -
the son, I may say, of his' affections - sharing a triumph for
which he ought the first to have blushed. Why should I lament
Gardiner? his lot was happy compared to mine!'
There was so much dignity in Colonel Talbot's manner, such a
mixture of military pride and manly sorrow, and the news of Sir
Everard's imprisonment was told in so deep a tone of feeling, that
Edward stood mortified, abashed, and distressed in presence of the
prisoner who owed to him his life not many hours before. He was
not sorry when Fergus interrupted their conference a second time.
'His Royal Highness commands Mr. Waverley's attendance.' Colonel
Talbot threw upon Edward a reproachful glance, which did not
escape the quick eye of the Highland Chief. 'His immediate
attendance,' he repeated, with considerable emphasis. Waverley
turned again towards the Colonel.
'We shall meet again,' he said; 'in the meanwhile, every possible
accommodation - '
'I desire none,' said the Colonel; 'let me fare like the meanest
of those brave men who, on this day of calamity, have preferred
wounds and captivity to flight; I would almost exchange places
with one of those who have fallen to know that my words have made
a suitable impression on your mind.'
'Let Colonel Talbot be carefully secured,' said Fergus to the
Highland officer who commanded the guard over the prisoners; 'it
is the Prince's particular command; he is a prisoner of the utmost
importance.'
'But let him want no accommodation suitable to his rank,' said
Waverley. 'Consistent always with secure custody,' reiterated
Fergus. The officer signified his acquiescence in both commands,
and Edward followed Fergus to the garden-gate, where Callum Beg,
with three saddle-horses, awaited them. Turning his head, he saw
Colonel Talbot reconducted to his place of confinement by a file
of Highlanders; he lingered on the threshold of the door and made
a signal with his hand towards Waverley, as if enforcing the
language he had held towards him.
'Horses,' said Fergus, as he mounted, 'are now as plenty as
blackberries; every man may have them for the catching. Come, let
Callum adjust your stirrups and let us to Pinkie House [Footnote:
Charles Edward took up his quarters after the battle at Pinkie
House, adjoining to Musselburgh.] as fast as these ci-devant
dragoon-horses choose to carry us.'
CHAPTER L
RATHER UNIMPORTANT
'I was turned back,' said Fergus to Edward, as they galloped from
Preston to Pinkie House, 'by a message from the Prince. But I
suppose you know the value of this most noble Colonel Talbot as a
prisoner. He is held one of the best officers among the red-coats,
a special friend and favourite of the Elector himself, and of that
dreadful hero, the Duke of Cumberland, who has been summoned from
his triumphs at Fontenoy to come over and devour us poor
Highlanders alive. Has he been telling you how the bells of St.
James's ring? Not "turn again, Whittington," like those of Bow, in
the days of yore?'
'Fergus!' said Waverley, with a reproachful look.
'Nay, I cannot tell what to make of you,' answered the Chief of
Mac-Ivor, 'you are blown about with every wind of doctrine. Here
have we gained a victory unparalleled in history, and your
behaviour is praised by every living mortal to the skies, and the
Prince is eager to thank you in person, and all our beauties of
the White Rose are pulling caps for you; - and you, the preux
chevalier of the day, are stooping on your horse's neck like a
butter-woman riding to market, and looking as black as a funeral!'
'I am sorry for poer Colonel Gardiner's death; he was once very
kind to me.'
'Why, then, be sorry for five minutes, and then be glad again; his
chance to-day may be ours to-morrow; and what does it signify? The
next best thing to victory is honourable death; but it is a PIS-
ALLER, and one would rather a foe had it than one's self.'
'But Colonel Talbot has informed me that my father and uncle are
both imprisoned by government on my account.'
'We'll put in bail, my boy; old Andrew Ferrara [Footnote: See Note
10] shall lodge his security; and I should like to see him put to
justify it in Westminster Hall!'
'Nay, they are already at liberty, upon bail of a more civic
disposition.'
'Then why is thy noble spirit cast down, Edward? Dost think that
the Elector's ministers are such doves as to set their enemies at
liberty at this critical moment if they could or durst confine and
punish them? Assure thyself that either they have no charge
against your relations on which they can continue their
imprisonment, or else they are afraid of our friends, the jolly
Cavaliers of old England. At any rate, you need not be
apprehensive upon their account; and we will find some means of
conveying to them assurances of your safety.'
Edward was silenced but not satisfied with these reasons. He had
now been more than once shocked at the small degree of sympathy
which Fergus exhibited for the feelings even of those whom he
loved, if they did not correspond with his own mood at the time,
and more especially if they thwarted him while earnest in a
favourite pursuit. Fergus sometimes indeed observed that he had
offended Waverley, but, always intent upon some favourite plan or
project of his own, he was never sufficiently aware of the extent
or duration of his displeasure, so that the reiteration of these
petty offences somewhat cooled the volunteer's extreme attachment
to his officer.
The Chevalier received Waverley with his usual favour, and paid
him many compliments on his distinguished bravery. He then took
him apart, made many inquiries concerning Colonel Talbot, and when
he had received all the information which Edward was able to give
concerning him and his connexions, he proceeded - 'I cannot but
think, Mr. Waverley, that since this gentleman is so particularly
connected with our worthy and excellent friend, Sir Everard
Waverley, and since his lady is of the house of Blandeville, whose
devotion to the true and loyal principles of the Church of England
is so generally known, the Colonel's own private sentiments cannot
be unfavorable to us, whatever mask he may have assumed to
accommodate himself to the times.'
'If I am to judge from the language he this day held to me, I am
under the necessity of differing widely from your Royal Highness.'
'Well, it is worth making a trial at least. I therefore entrust
you with the charge of Colonel Talbot, with power to act
concerning him as you think most advisable; and I hope you will
find means of ascertaining what are his real dispositions towards
our Royal Father's restoration.'
'I am convinced,' said Waverley, bowing,'that if Colonel Talbot
chooses to grant his parole, it may be securely depended upon; but
if he refuses it, I trust your Royal Highness will devolve on some
other person than the nephew of his friend the task of laying him
under the necessary restraint.'
'I will trust him with no person but you,' said the Prince,
smiling, but peremptorily repeating his mandate; 'it is of
importance to my service that there should appear to be a good
intelligence between you, even if you are unable to gain his
confidence in earnest. You will therefore receive him into your
quarters, and in case he declines giving his parole, you must
apply for a proper guard. I beg you will go about this directly.
We return to Edinburgh tomorrow.'
Being thus remanded to the vicinity of Preston, Waverley lost the
Baron of Bradwardine's solemn act of homage. So little, however,
was he at this time in love with vanity, that he had quite
forgotten the ceremony in which Fergus had laboured to engage his
curiosity. But next day a formal 'Gazette' was circulated,
containing a detailed account of the battle of Gladsmuir, as the
Highlanders chose to denominate their victory. It concluded with
an account of the court afterwards held by the Chevalier at Pinkie
House, which contained this among other high-flown descriptive
paragraphs: -
'Since that fatal treaty which annihilates Scotland as an
independent nation, it has not been our happiness to see her
princes receive, and her nobles discharge, those acts of feudal
homage which, founded upon the splendid actions of Scottish
valour, recall the memory of her early history, with the manly and
chivalrous simplicity of the ties which united to the Crown the
homage of the warriors by whom it was repeatedly upheld and
defended. But on the evening of the 20th our memories were
refreshed with one of those ceremonies which belong to the ancient
days of Scotland's glory. After the circle was formed, Cosmo
Comyne Bradwardine of that ilk, colonel in the service, etc.,
etc., etc., came before the Prince, attended by Mr. D. Macwheeble,
the Bailie of his ancient barony of Bradwardine (who, we
understand, has been lately named a commissary), and, under form
of instrument, claimed permission to perform to the person of his
Royal Highness, as representing his father, the service used and
wont, for which, under a charter of Robert Bruce (of which the
original was produced and inspected by the Masters of his Royal
Highness's Chancery for the time being), the claimant held the
barony of Bradwardine and lands of Tully-Veolan. His claim being
admitted and registered, his Royal Highness having placed his foot
upon a cushion, the Baron of Bradwardine, kneeling upon his right
knee, proceeded to undo the latchet of the brogue, or low-heeled
Highland shoe, which our gallant young hero wears in compliment to
his brave followers. When this was performed, his Royal Highness
declared the ceremony completed; and, embracing the gallant
veteran, protested that nothing but compliance with an ordinance
of Robert Bruce could have induced him to receive even the
symbolical performance of a menial office from hands which had
fought so bravely to put the crown upon the head of his father.
The Baron of Bradwardine then took instruments in the hands of Mr.
Commissary Macwheeble, bearing that all points and circumstances
of the act of homage had been rite et solenniter acta et peracta;
and a corresponding entry was made in the protocol of the Lord
High Chamberlain and in the record of Chancery. We understand that
it is in contemplation of his Royal Highness, when his Majesty's
pleasure can be known, to raise Colonel Bradwardine to the
peerage, by the title of Viscount Bradwardine of Bradwardine and
Tully-Veolan, and that, in the meanwhile, his Royal Highness, in
his father's name and authority, has been pleased to grant him an
honourable augmentation to his paternal coat of arms, being a
budget or boot-jack, disposed saltier-wise with a naked
broadsword, to be borne in the dexter cantle of the shield; and,
as an additional motto, on a scroll beneath, the words, "Draw and
draw off."'
'Were it not for the recollection of Fergus's raillery,' thought
Waverley to himself, when he had perused this long and grave
document,' how very tolerably would all this sound, and how little
should I have thought of connecting it with any ludicrous idea!
Well, after all, everything has its fair as well as its seamy
side; and truly I do not see why the Baron's boot-jack may not
stand as fair in heraldry as the water-buckets, waggons, cart-
wheels, plough-socks, shuttles, candlesticks, and other
ordinaries, conveying ideas of anything save chivalry, which
appear in the arms of some of our most ancient gentry.'
This, however, is an episode in respect to the principal story.
When Waverley returned to Preston and rejoined Colonel Talbot, he
found him recovered from the strong and obvious emotions with
which a concurrence of unpleasing events had affected him. He had
regained his natural manner, which was that of an English
gentleman and soldier, manly, open and generous, but not
unsusceptible of prejudice against those of a different country,
or who opposed him in political tenets. When Waverley acquainted
Colonel Talbot with the Chevalier's purpose to commit him to his
charge, 'I did not think to have owed so much obligation to that
young gentleman,' he said, 'as is implied in this destination. I
can at least cheerfully join in the prayer of the honest
Presbyterian clergyman, that, as he has come among us seeking an
earthly crown, his labours may be speedily rewarded with a
heavenly one. [Footnote: The clergyman's name was Mac-Vicar.
Protected by the cannon of the Castle, he preached every Sunday in
the West Kirk while the Highlanders were in possession of
Edinburgh, and it was in presence of some of the Jacobites that he
prayed for Prince Charles Edward in the terms quoted in the text.]
I shall willingly give my parole not to attempt an escape without
your knowledge, since, in fact, it was to meet you that I came to
Scotland; and I am glad it has happened even under this
predicament. But I suppose we shall be but a short time together.
Your Chevalier (that is a name we may both give to him), with his
plaids and blue caps, will, I presume, be continuing his crusade
southward?'
'Not as I hear; I believe the army makes some stay in Edinburgh to
collect reinforcements.'
'And to besiege the Castle?' said Talbot, smiling sarcastically.
'Well, unless my old commander, General Preston, turn false metal,
or the Castle sink into the North Loch, events which I deem
equally probable, I think we shall have some time to make up our
acquaintance. I have a guess that this gallant Chevalier has a
design that I should be your proselyte; and, as I wish you to be
mine, there cannot be a more fair proposal than to afford us fair
conference together. But, as I spoke today under the influence of
feelings I rarely give way to, I hope you will excuse my entering
again upon controversy till we are somewhat better acquainted.'
CHAPTER LI
INTRIGUES OF LOVE AND POLITICS
It is not necessary to record in these pages the triumphant
entrance of the Chevalier into Edinburgh after the decisive affair
at Preston. One circumstance, however, may be noticed, because it
illustrates the high spirit of Flora Mac-Ivor. The Highlanders by
whom the Prince was surrounded, in the license and extravagance of
this joyful moment, fired their pieces repeatedly, and one of
these having been accidentally loaded with ball, the bullet grazed
the young lady's temple as she waved her handkerchief from a
balcony. [Footnote: See Note II.] Fergus, who beheld the accident,
was at her side in an instant; and, on seeing that the wound was
trifling, he drew his broadsword with the purpose of rushing down
upon the man by whose carelessness she had incurred so much
danger, when, holding him by the plaid, 'Do not harm the poor
fellow,' she cried; 'for Heaven's sake, do not harm him! but thank
God with me that the accident happened to Flora Mac-Ivor; for had
it befallen a Whig, they would have pretended that the shot was
fired on purpose.'
Waverley escaped the alarm which this accident would have
occasioned to him, as he was unavoidably delayed by the necessity
of accompanying Colonel Talbot to Edinburgh.
They performed the journey together on horseback, and for some
time, as if to sound each other's feelings and sentiments, they
conversed upon general and ordinary topics.
When Waverley again entered upon the subject which he had most at
heart, the situation, namely, of his father and his uncle, Colonel
Talbot seemed now rather desirous to alleviate than to aggravate
his anxiety. This appeared particularly to be the case when he
heard Waverley's history, which he did not scruple to confide to
him.
'And so,' said the Colonel,'there has been no malice prepense, as
lawyers, I think, term it, in this rash step of yours; and you
have been trepanned into the service of this Italian knight-errant
by a few civil speeches from him and one or two of his Highland
recruiting sergeants? It is sadly foolish, to be sure, but not
nearly so bad as I was led to expect. However, you cannot desert,
even from the Pretender, at the present moment; that seems
impossible. But I have little doubt that, in the dissensions
incident to this heterogeneous mass of wild and desperate men,
some opportunity may arise, by availing yourself of which you may
extricate yourself honourably from your rash engagement before the
bubble burst. If this can be managed, I would have you go to a
place of safety in Flanders which I shall point out. And I think I
can secure your pardon from government after a few months'
residence abroad.'
'I cannot permit you, Colonel Talbot,' answered Waverley, 'to
speak of any plan which turns on my deserting an enterprise in
which I may have engaged hastily, but certainly voluntarily, and
with the purpose of abiding the issue.'
'Well,' said Colonel Talbot, smiling, 'leave me my thoughts and
hopes at least at liberty, if not my speech. But have you never
examined your mysterious packet?'
'It is in my baggage,' replied Edward; 'we shall find it in
Edinburgh.'
In Edinburgh they soon arrived. Waverley's quarters had been
assigned to him, by the Prince's express orders, in a handsome
lodging, where there was accommodation for Colonel Talbot. His
first business was to examine his portmanteau, and, after a very
short search, out tumbled the expected packet. Waverley opened it
eagerly. Under a blank cover, simply addressed to E. Waverley,
Esq., he found a number of open letters. The uppermost were two
from Colonel Gardiner addressed to himself. The earliest in date
was a kind and gentle remonstrance for neglect of the writer's
advice respecting the disposal of his time during his leave of
absence, the renewal of which, he reminded Captain Waverley, would
speedily expire. 'Indeed,' the letter proceeded, 'had it been
otherwise, the news from abroad and my instructions from the War
Office must have compelled me to recall it, as there is great
danger, since the disaster in Flanders, both of foreign invasion
and insurrection among the disaffected at home. I therefore
entreat you will repair as soon as possible to the headquarters of
the regiment; and I am concerned to add that this is still the