Walter Scott

Part 6 out of 11

were confirmed when, attentively listening, he often heard, in
the course of the day, the voice of another female conversing in
whispers with his attendant. Who could it be? And why should
she apparently desire concealment? Fancy immediately roused
herself, and turned to Flora Mac-Ivor. But after a short
conflict between his eager desire to believe she was in his
neighbourhood, guarding, like an angel of mercy, the couch of his
sickness, Waverley was compelled to conclude that his conjecture
was altogether improbable; since, to suppose she had left the
comparatively safe situation at Glennaquoich to descend into the
Low Country, now the seat of civil war, and to inhabit such a
lurking-place as this, was a thing hardly to be imagined. Yet
his heart bounded as he sometimes could distinctly hear the trip
of a light female step glide to or from the door of the hut, or
the suppressed sounds of a female voice, of softness and
delicacy, hold dialogue with the hoarse inward croak of old
Janet, for so he understood his antiquated attendant was

Having nothing else to amuse his solitude, he employed himself in
contriving some plan to gratify his curiosity, in spite of the
sedulous caution of Janet and the old Highland janizary, for he
had never seen the young fellow since the first morning. At
length, upon accurate examination, the infirm state of his wooden
prison-house appeared to supply the means of gratifying his
curiosity, for out of a spot which was somewhat decayed he was
able to extract a nail. Through this minute aperture he could
perceive a female form, wrapped in a plaid, in the act of
conversing with Janet. But, since the days of our grandmother
Eve, the gratification of inordinate curiosity has generally
borne its penalty in disappointment. The form was not that of
Flora, nor was the face visible; and, to crown his vexation,
while he laboured with the nail to enlarge the hole, that he
might obtain a more complete view, a slight noise betrayed his
purpose, and the object of his curiosity instantly disappeared;
nor, so far as he could observe, did she again revisit the

All precautions to blockade his view were from that time
abandoned, and he was not only permitted, but assisted to rise
and quit what had been, in a literal sense, his couch of
confinement. But he was not allowed to leave the hut; for the
young Highlander had now rejoined his senior, and one or other
was constantly on the watch. Whenever Waverley approached the
cottage door, the sentinel upon duty civilly, but resolutely,
placed himself against it and opposed his exit, accompanying his
action with signs which seemed to imply there was danger in the
attempt, and an enemy in the neighbourhood. Old Janet appeared
anxious and upon the watch; and Waverley, who had not yet
recovered strength enough to attempt to take his departure in
spite of the opposition of his hosts, was under the necessity of
remaining patient. His fare was, in every point of view, better
than he could have conceived; for poultry, and even wine, were no
strangers to his table. The Highlanders never presumed to eat
with him, and unless in the circumstance of watching him, treated
him with great respect. His sole amusement was gazing from the
window, or rather the shapeless aperture which was meant to
answer the purpose of a window, upon large and rough brook, which
raged and foamed through a rocky channel, closely canopied with
trees and bushes, about ten feet beneath the site of his house of

Upon the sixth day of his confinement, Waverley found himself so
well, that he began to meditate his escape from this dull and
miserable prison-house, thinking any risk which he might incur in
the attempt preferable to the stupefying and intolerable
uniformity of Janet's retirement. The question indeed occurred,
whither he was to direct his course when again at his own
disposal. Two schemes seemed practicable, yet both attended with
danger and difficulty. One was to go back to Glennaquoich, and
join Fergus Mac-Ivor, by whom he was sure to be kindly received;
and in the present state of his mind, the rigour with which he
had been treated fully absolved him, in his own eyes, from his
allegiance to the existing government. The other project was to
endeavour to attain a Scottish seaport, and thence to take
shipping for England. His mind wavered between these plans; and
probably, if he had effected his escape in the manner he
proposed, he would have been finally determined by the
comparative facility by which either might have been executed.
But his fortune had settled that he was not to be left to his

Upon the evening of the seventh day the door of the hut suddenly
opened, and two Highlanders entered, whom Waverley recognized as
having been a part of his original escort to this cottage. They
conversed for a short time with the old man and his companion,
and then made Waverley understand, by very significant signs,
that he was to prepare to accompany them. This was a joyful
communication. What had already passed during his confinement
made it evident that no personal injury was designed to him; and
his romantic spirit, having recovered during his repose much of
that elasticity which anxiety, resentment, disappointment, and
the mixture of unpleasant feelings excited by his late
adventures, had for a time subjugated, was now wearied with
inaction. His passion for the wonderful, although it is the
nature of such dispositions to be excited, by that degree of
danger which merely gives dignity to the feeling of the
individual exposed to it, had sunk under the extraordinary and
apparently, insurmountable evils by which he appeared environed
at Cairnvreckan. In fact, this compound of intense curiosity and
exalted imagination forms a peculiar species of courage, which
somewhat resembles the light usually carried by a miner,--
sufficiently competent, indeed, to afford him guidance and
comfort during the ordinary perils of his labour, but certain to
be extinguished should he encounter the more formidable hazard of
earth-damps or pestiferous vapours. It was now, however, once
more rekindled, and with a throbbing mixture of hope, awe, and
anxiety, Waverley watched the group before him, as those who had
just arrived snatched a hasty meal, and the others assumed their
arms, and made brief preparations for their departure.

As he sat in the smoky hut, at some distance from the fire,
around which the others were crowded, he felt a gentle pressure
upon his arm. He looked round--it was Alice, the daughter of
Donald Bean Lean. She showed him a packet of papers in such a
manner that the motion was remarked by no one else, put her
finger for a second to her lips, and passed on, as if to assist
old Janet in packing Waverley's clothes in his portmanteau. It
was obviously her wish that he should not seem to recognize her;
yet she repeatedly looked back at him, as an opportunity occurred
of doing so unobserved, and when she saw that he remarked what
she did, she folded the packet with great address and speed in
one of his shirts, which she deposited in the portmanteau.

Here then was fresh food for conjecture. Was Alice his unknown
warden, and was this maiden of the cavern the tutelar genius that
watched his bed during his sickness? Was he in the hands of her
father? and if so, what was his purpose? Spoil, his usual
object, seemed in this case neglected; for not only Waverley's
property was restored, but his purse, which might have tempted
this professional plunderer, had been all along suffered to
remain in his possession. All this perhaps the packet might
explain; but it was plain from Alice's manner that she desired he
should consult it in secret. Nor did she again seek his eye
after she had satisfied herself that her manoeuvre was observed
and understood. On the contrary, she shortly afterwards left
the hut, and it was only as she tripped out from the door, that,
favoured by the obscurity, she gave Waverley a parting smile and
nod of significance, ere she vanished in the dark glen.

The young Highlander was repeatedly dispatched by his comrades as
if to collect intelligence. At length when he had returned for
the third or fourth time, the whole party arose, and made signs
to our hero to accompany them. Before his departure, however, he
shook hands with old Janet, who had been so sedulous in his
behalf, and added substantial marks of his gratitude for her

'God bless you! God prosper you, Captain Waverley!' said Janet,
in good Lowland Scotch, though he had never hitherto heard her
utter a syllable, save in Gaelic. But the impatience of his
attendants prohibited his asking any explanation.



There was a moment's pause when the whole party had got out of
the hut; and the Highlander who assumed the command, and who, in
Waverley's awakened recollection, seemed to be the same tall
figure who had acted as Donald Bean Lean's lieutenant, by
whispers and signs imposed the strictest silence. He delivered
to Edward a sword and steel pistol, and, pointing up the tract,
laid his hand on the hilt of his own claymore, as if to make him
sensible they might have occasion to use force to make good their
passage. He then placed himself at the head of the party, who
moved up the pathway in single or Indian file, Waverley being
placed nearest to their leader. He moved with great precaution,
as if to avoid giving any alarm, and halted as soon as he came to
the verge of the ascent. Waverley was soon sensible of the
reason, for he heard at no great distance an English sentinel
call out 'All's well.' The heavy sound sank on the night-wind
down the woody glen, and was answered by the echoes of its banks.
A second, third, and fourth time, the signal was repeated,
fainter and fainter, as if at a greater and greater distance. It
was obvious that a party of soldiers were near, and upon their
guard, though not sufficiently so to detect men skilful in every
art of predatory warfare, like those with whom he now watched
their ineffectual precautions.

When these sounds had died upon the silence of the night, the
Highlanders began their march swiftly, yet with the most cautious
silence. Waverley had little time, or indeed disposition, for
observation, and could only discern that; they passed at some
distance from a large building, in the windows of which a light
or two yet seemed to twinkle. A little farther on, the leading
Highlander snuffed the wind like a setting spaniel, and then made
a signal to his party again to halt. He stooped down upon all-
fours, wrapped up in his plaid, so as to be scarce
distinguishable from the heathy ground on which he moved, and
advanced in this posture to reconnoitre. In a short time he
returned, and dismissed his attendants excepting one; and,
intimating to Waverley that he must imitate his cautious mode of
proceeding, all three crept forward on hands and knees.

After proceeding a greater way in this inconvenient manner than
was at all comfortable to his knees and shins, Waverley perceived
the smell of smoke, which probably had been much sooner
distinguished by the more acute nasal organs of his guide. It
proceeded from the corner of a low and ruinous sheepfold, the
walls of which were made of loose stones, as is usual in
Scotland. Close by this low wall the Highlander guided Waverley,
and, in order probably to make him sensible of his danger, or
perhaps to obtain the full credit of his own dexterity, he
intimated to him, by sign and example, that he might raise his
head so as to peep into the sheepfold. Waverley did so, and
beheld an outpost of four or five soldiers lying by their watch-
fire. They were all asleep, except the sentinel, who paced
backwards and forwards with his firelock on his shoulder, which
glanced red in the light of the fire as he crossed and recrossed
before it in his short walk, casting his eye frequently to that
part of the heavens from which the moon, hitherto obscured by
mist, seemed now about to make her appearance,

In the course of a minute or two, by one of those sudden changes
of atmosphere incident to a mountainous country, a breeze arose,
and swept before it the clouds which had covered the horizon, and
the night planet poured her full effulgence upon a wide and
blighted heath, skirted indeed with copsewood and stunted trees
in the quarter from which they had come, but open and bare to the
observation of the sentinel in that to which their course tended.
The wall of the sheepfold, indeed, concealed them as they lay,
but any advance beyond its shelter seemed impossible without
certain discovery.

The Highlander eyed the blue vault, but far from blessing the
useful light with Homer's, or rather Pope's, benighted peasant,
he muttered a Gaelic curse upon the unseasonable splendour of
MAC-FARLANE'S BUAT (i. e. lantern). [See Note 21.] He looked
anxiously around for a few minutes, and then apparently took his
resolution. Leaving his attendant with Waverley, after motioning
to Edward to remain quiet, and giving his comrade directions in a
brief whisper, he retreated, favoured by the irregularity of the
ground, in the same direction and in the same manner as they had
advanced. Edward, turning his head after him, could perceive him
crawling on all-fours with the dexterity of an Indian, availing
himself of every bush and inequality to escape observation, and
never passing over the more exposed parts of his track until the
sentinel's back was turned from him. At length he reached the
thickets and underwood which partly covered the moor in that
direction, and probably extended to the verge of the glen where
Waverley had been so long an inhabitant. The Highlander
disappeared, but it was only for a few minutes, for he suddenly
issued forth from a different part of the thicket, and advancing
boldly upon the open heath, as if to invite discovery, he
levelled his piece, and fired at the sentinel. A wound in the
arm proved a disagreeable interruption to the poor fellow's
meteorological observations, as well as to the tune of 'Nancy
Dawson,' which he was whistling. He returned the fire
ineffectually, and his comrades, starting up at the alarm,
advanced alertly towards the spot from which the first shot had
issued. The Highlander, after giving them a full view of his
person, dived among the thickets, for his RUSE DE GUERRE had now
perfectly succeeded.

While the soldiers pursued the cause of their disturbance in one
direction, Waverley, adopting the hint of his remaining
attendant, made the best of his speed in that which his guide
originally intended to pursue, and which now (the attention of
the soldiers being drawn to a different quarter) was unobserved
and unguarded. When they had run about a quarter of a mile, the
brow of a rising ground, which they had surmounted, concealed
them from further risk of observation. They still heard,
however, at a distance, the shouts of the soldiers as they
hallooed to each other upon the heath, and they could also hear
the distant roll of a drum beating to arms in the same direction.
But these hostile sounds were now far in their rear, and died
away upon the breeze as they rapidly proceeded.

When they had walked about half an hour, still along open and
waste ground of the same description, they came to the stump of
an ancient oak, which, from its relics, appeared to have been at
one time a tree of very large size. In an adjacent hollow they
found several Highlanders, with a horse or two. They had not
joined them above a few minutes, which Waverley's attendant
employed, in all probability, in communicating the cause of their
delay (for the words 'Duncan Duroch' were often repeated), when
Duncan himself appeared, out of breath indeed, and with all the
symptoms of having run for his life, but laughing, and in high
spirits at the success of the stratagem by which he had baffled
his pursuers. This, indeed, Waverley could easily conceive might
be a matter of no great difficulty to the active mountaineer, who
was perfectly acquainted with the ground, and traced his course
with a firmness and confidence to which his pursuers must have
been strangers. The alarm which he excited seemed still to
continue, for a dropping shot or two were heard at a great
distance, which seemed to serve as an addition to the mirth of
Duncan and his comrades.

The mountaineer now resumed the arms with which he had entrusted
our hero, giving him to understand that the dangers of the
journey were happily surmounted. Waverley was then mounted upon
one of the horses, a change which the fatigue of the night and
his recent illness rendered exceedingly acceptable. His
portmanteau was placed on another pony, Duncan mounted a third,
and they set forward at a round pace, accompanied by their
escort. No other incident marked the course of that night's
journey, and at the dawn of morning they attained the banks of a
rapid river. The country around was at once fertile and
romantic. Steep banks of wood were broken by cornfields, which
this year presented an abundant harvest, already in a great
measure cut down.

On the opposite bank of the river, and partly surrounded by a
winding of its stream, stood a large and massive castle, the
half-ruined turrets of which were already glittering in the first
rays of the sun. [See Note 22.] It was in form an oblong
square, of size sufficient to contain a large court in the
centre. The towers at each angle of the square rose higher than
the walls of the building, and were in their turn surmounted by
turrets, differing in height, and irregular in shape. Upon one
of these a sentinel watched, whose bonnet and plaid, streaming in
the wind, declared him to be a Highlander, as a broad white
ensign, which floated from another tower, announced that the
garrison was held by the insurgent adherents of the House of

Passing hastily through a small and mean town, where their
appearance excited neither surprise nor curiosity in the few
peasants whom the labours of the harvest began to summon from
their repose, the party crossed an ancient and narrow bridge of
several arches, and turning to the left, up an avenue of huge old
sycamores, Waverley found himself in front of the gloomy yet
picturesque structure which he had admired at a distance. A huge
iron-grated door, which formed the exterior defence of the
gateway, was already thrown back to receive them; and a second,
heavily constructed of oak, and studded thickly with iron nails,
being next opened, admitted them into the interior courtyard. A
gentleman, dressed in the Highland garb, and having a white
cockade in his bonnet, assisted Waverley to dismount from his
horse, and with much courtesy bid him welcome to the castle.

The governor for so we must term him, having conducted Waverley
to a half-ruinous apartment, where, however, there was a small
camp-bed, and having offered him any refreshment which he
desired, was then about to leave him.

'Will you not add to your civilities,' said Waverley, after
having made the usual acknowledgement, 'by having the kindness to
inform me where I am, and whether or not I am to consider myself
as a prisoner?'

'I am not at liberty to be so explicit upon this subject as I
could wish. Briefly, however, you are in the Castle of Doune, in
the district of Menteith, and in no danger whatever.'

'And how am I assured of that?'

'By the honour of Donald Stewart, governor of the garrison, and
lieutenant-colonel in the service of his Royal Highness Prince
Charles Edward.' So saying, he hastily left the apartment, as if
to avoid further discussion.

Exhausted by the fatigues of the night, our hero now threw
himself upon the bed, and was in a few minutes fast asleep.



Before Waverley awakened from his repose, the day was far
advanced, and he began to feel that he had passed many hours
without food. This was soon supplied in form of a copious
breakfast, but Colonel Stewart, as if wishing to avoid the
queries of his guest, did not again present himself. His
compliments were, however, delivered by a servant, with an offer
to provide anything in his power that could be useful to Captain
Waverley on his journey, which he intimated would be continued
that evening. To Waverley's further inquiries, the servant
opposed the impenetrable barrier of real or affected ignorance
and stupidity. He removed the table and provisions, and Waverley
was again consigned to his own meditations.

As he contemplated the strangeness of his fortune, which seemed
to delight in placing him at the disposal of others, without the
power of directing his own motions, Edward's eye suddenly rested
upon his portmanteau, which had been deposited in his apartment
during his sleep. The mysterious appearance of Alice, in the
cottage of the glen, immediately rushed upon his mind, and he was
about to secure and examine the packet which she had deposited
among his clothes, when the servant of Colonel Stewart again made
his appearance, and took up the portmanteau upon his shoulders.

'May I not take out a change of linen, my friend?'

'Your honour sall get ane o' the Colonel's ain ruffled sarks, but
this maun gang in the baggage-cart.'

And so saying, he very coolly carried off the portmanteau,
without waiting further remonstrance, leaving our hero in a state
where disappointment and indignation struggled for the mastery.
In a few minutes he heard a cart rumble out of the rugged
courtyard, and made no doubt that he was now dispossessed, for a
space at least, if not for ever, of the only documents which
seemed to promise some light upon the dubious events which had of
late influenced his destiny. With such melancholy thoughts he
had to beguile about four or five hours of solitude.

When this space was elapsed, the trampling of horse was heard in
the courtyard, and Colonel Stewart soon after made his appearance
to request his guest to take some further refreshment before his
departure. The offer was accepted, for a late breakfast had by
no means left our hero incapable of doing honour to dinner, which
was now presented. The conversation of his host was that of a
plain country gentleman, mixed with some soldier-like sentiments
and expressions. He cautiously avoided any reference to the
military operations or civil politics of the time: and to
Waverley's direct inquiries concerning some of these points,
replied, that he was not at liberty to speak upon such topics.

When dinner was finished, the governor arose, and, wishing Edward
a good journey, said, that having been informed by Waverley's
servant that his baggage had been sent forward, he had taken the
freedom to supply him with such changes of linen as he might find
necessary, till he was again possessed of his own. With this
compliment he disappeared. A servant acquainted Waverley an
instant afterwards, that his horse was ready.

Upon this hint he descended into the courtyard, and found a
trooper holding a saddled horse, on which he mounted, and sallied
from the portal of Doune Castle, attended by about a score of
armed men on horseback. These had less the appearance of regular
soldiers than of individuals who had suddenly assumed arms from
some pressing motive of unexpected emergency. Their uniform,
which was blue and red, an affected imitation of that of French
chasseurs, was in many respects incomplete, and sat awkwardly
upon those who wore it. Waverley's eye, accustomed to look at a
well-disciplined regiment, could easily discover that the motions
and habits of his escort were not those of trained soldiers, and
that, although expert enough in the management of their horses,
their skill was that of huntsmen or grooms, rather than of
troopers. The horses were not trained to the regular pace so
necessary to execute simultaneous and combined movements and
formations; nor did they seem BITTED (as it is technically
expressed) for the use of the sword. The men, however, were
stout, hardy-looking fellows, and might be individually
formidable as irregular cavalry. The commander of this small
party was mounted upon an excellent hunter, and although dressed
in uniform, his change of apparel did not prevent Waverley from
recognizing his old acquaintance, Mr. Falconer of Balmawhapple.

Now, although the terms upon which Edward had parted with this
gentleman were none of the most friendly, he would have
sacrificed every recollection of their foolish quarrel for the
pleasure of enjoying once more the social intercourse of question
and answer, from which he had been so long secluded. But
apparently the remembrance of his defeat by the Baron of
Bradwardine, of which Edward had been the unwilling cause, still
rankled in the mind of the low-bred, and yet proud laird. He
carefully avoided giving the ]east sign of recognition, riding
doggedly at the head of his men, who, though scarce equal in
numbers to a sergeant's party, were denominated Captain
Falconer's troop, being preceded by a trumpet, which sounded from
time to time, and a standard, borne by Cornet Falconer, the
laird's young brother. The lieutenant, an elderly man, had much
the air of a low sportsman and boon companion; an expression of
dry humour predominated in his countenance over features of a
vulgar cast, which indicated habitual intemperance. His cocked
hat was set knowingly upon one side of his head, and while he
whistled the 'Bob of Dumblain,' under the influence of half a
mutchkin of brandy, he seemed to fret merrily forward, with a
happy indifference to the state of the country, the conduct of
the party, the end of the journey, and all other sublunary
matters whatever.

From this wight, who now and then dropped alongside of his horse,
Waverley hoped to acquire some information, or at least to
beguile the way with talk.

'A fine evening, sir,' was Edward's salutation.

'Ow, aye, sir! a bra' night,' replied the lieutenant, in broad
Scotch of the most vulgar description.

'And a fine harvest, apparently,' continued Waverley, following
up his first attack.

'Aye, the aits will be got bravely in: but the farmers, deil
burst them, and the corn-mongers will make the auld price gude
against them as has horses till keep.'

'You perhaps act as quarter-master, sir?'

'Aye, quarter-master, riding-master, and lieutenant,' answered
this officer of all work. 'And, to be sure, wha's fitter to look
after the breaking and the keeping of the poor beasts than
mysell, that bought and sold every ane o' them?'

'And pray, sir, if it be not too great a freedom, may I beg to
know where we are going just now?'

'A fule's errand, I fear,' answered this communicative personage.

'In that case,' said Waverley, determined not to spare civility,
'I should have thought a person of your appearance would not have
been found on the road.'

'Vera true, vera true, sir,' replied the officer, 'but every why
has its wherefore. Ye maun ken, the laird there bought a' thir
beasts frae' me to munt his troop, and agreed to pay for them
according to the necessities and prices of the time. But then he
hadna the ready penny, and I hae been advised his bond will not
be worth a boddle against the estate, and then I had a' my
dealers to settle wi' at Martinmas; and so as he very kindly
offered me this commission, and as the auld Fifteen [The Judges
of the Supreme Court of Session in Scotland are proverbially
termed, among the country people, The Fifteen.] wad never help me
to my siller for sending out naigs against the Government, why,
conscience! sir, I thought my best chance for payment was e'en
to GAE OUT mysell; and ye may judge, sir, as I hae dealt a' my
life in halters, I think na mickle o' putting my craig in peril
of a St. Johnstone's tippet.' [TO GO OUT, or TO HAVE BEEN OUT,
in Scotland, was a conventional phrase similar to that of the
Irish respecting a man having been UP, both having reference to
an individual who had been engaged in insurrection. It was
accounted ill-breeding in Scotland, about forty years since, to
use the phrase rebellion or rebel, which might be interpreted by
some of the parties present as a personal insult. It was also
esteemed more polite even for stanch Whigs to denominate Charles
Edward the Chevalier, than to speak of him as the Pretender; and
this kind of accommodating courtesy was usually observed in
society where individuals of each party mixed on friendly terms.]

'You are not, then, by profession a soldier?' said Waverley.

'Na, na; thank God,' answered this doughty partisan, 'I wasna
bred at sae short a tether; I was brought up to hack and manger.
I was bred a horse-couper, sir; and if I might live to see you at
Whitson-tryst, or at Stagshawbank, or the winter fair at Hawick,
and ye wanted a spanker that would lead the field, I'se be
caution I would serve ye easy; for Jamie Jinker was ne'er the lad
to impose upon a gentleman. Ye're a gentleman, sir, and should
ken a horse's points; ye see that through-ganging thing that
Balmawhapple's on; I selled her till him. She was bred out of
Lick-the-Ladle, that wan the king's plate at Caverton-Edge, by
Duke Hamilton's White-foot,' &c. &c. &c.

But as Jinker was entered full sail upon the pedigree of
Balmawhapple's mare, having already got as far as great-grandsire
and great-grand-dam, and while Waverley was watching for an
opportunity to obtain from him intelligence of more interest, the
noble captain checked his horse until they came up, and then,
without directly appearing to notice Edward, said sternly to the
genealogist, 'I thought, lieutenant', my orders were preceese,
that no one should speak to the prisoner?'

The metamorphosed horse-dealer was silenced of course, and slunk
to the rear, where he consoled himself by entering into a
vehement dispute upon the price of hay with a farmer, who had
reluctantly followed his laird to the field, rather than give up
his farm, whereof the lease had just expired. Waverley was
therefore once more consigned to silence, foreseeing that further
attempts at conversation with any of the party would only give
Balmawhapple a wished-for opportunity to display the insolence of
authority, and the sulky spite of a temper naturally dogged, and
rendered more so by habits of low indulgence and the incense of
servile adulation.

In about two hours' time, the party were near the Castle of
Stirling, over whose battlements the union flag was brightened as
it waved in the evening sun. To shorten his journey or perhaps
to display his importance and insult the English garrison,
Balmawhapple, inclining to the right, took his route through the
royal park, which reaches to and surrounds the rock upon which
the fortress is situated.

With a mind more at ease, Waverley could not have failed to
admire the mixture of romance and beauty which renders
interesting the scene through which he was now passing--the field
which had been the scene of the tournaments of old--the rock from
which the ladies beheld the contest, while each made vows for the
success of some favourite knight--the towers of the Gothic
church, where these vows might be paid--and, surmounting all, the
fortress itself, at once a castle and palace, where valour
received the prize from royalty, and knights and dames closed the
evening amid the revelry of the dance, the song, and the feast.
All these were objects fitted to arouse and interest a romantic

But Waverley had other objects of meditation, and an incident
soon occurred of a nature to disturb meditation of any kind.
Balmawhapple, in the pride of his heart, as he wheeled his little
body of cavalry round the base of the castle, commanded his
trumpet to sound a flourish, and his standard to be displayed.
This insult produced apparently some sensation; for when the
cavalcade was at such a distance from the southern battery as to
admit of a gun being depressed so as to bear upon them, a flash
of fire issued from one of the embrasures upon the rock; and ere
the report with which it was attended could be heard, the rushing
sound of a cannon-ball passed over Balmawhapple's head, and the
bullet, burying itself in the ground at a few yards' distance,
covered him with the earth which it drove up. There was no need
to bid the party trudge. In fact, every man, acting upon the
impulse of the moment, soon brought Mr. Jinker's steeds to show
their mettle, and the cavaliers, retreating with more speed than
regularity, never took to a trot, as the lieutenant afterwards
observed, until an intervening eminence had secured them from any
repetition of so undesirable a compliment on the part of Stirling
Castle. I must do Balmawhapple, however, the justice to say,
that he not only kept the rear of his troop, and laboured to
maintain some order among them, but, in the height of his
gallantry, answered the fire of the castle by discharging one of
his horse-pistols at the battlements; although, the distance
being nearly half a mile, I could never learn that this measure
of retaliation was attended with any particular effect.

The travellers now passed the memorable field of Bannockburn, and
reached the Torwood,--a place glorious or terrible to the
recollections of the Scottish peasant, as the feats of Wallace,
or the cruelties of Wude Willie Grime, predominate in his
recollection. At Falkirk, a town formerly famous in Scottish
history, and soon to be again distinguished as the scene of
military events of importance, Balmawhapple proposed to halt and
repose for the evening. This was performed with very little
regard to military discipline, his worthy quarter-master being
chiefly solicitous to discover where the best brandy might be
come at. Sentinels were deemed unnecessary, and the only vigils
performed were those of such of the party as could procure
liquor. A few resolute men might easily have cut off the
detachment; but of the inhabitants some were favourable, many
indifferent, and the rest overawed. So nothing memorable
occurred in the course of the evening, except that Waverley's
rest was sorely interrupted by the revellers hallooing forth
their Jacobite songs, without remorse or mitigation of voice.

Early in the morning they were again mounted, and on the road to
Edinburgh, though the pallid visages of some of the troop
betrayed that they had spent a night of sleepless debauchery.
They halted at Linlithgow, distinguished by its ancient palace,
which, Sixty Years since, was entire and habitable, and whose
venerable ruins, not quite Sixty Years since, very narrowly
escaped the unworthy fate of being converted into a barrack for
French prisoners. May repose and blessings attend the ashes of
the patriotic statesman, who, amongst his last services to
Scotland, interposed to prevent this profanation!

As they approached the metropolis of Scotland, through a
champaign and cultivated country, the sounds of war began to be
heard. The distant, yet distinct report of heavy cannon, fired
at intervals, apprized Waverley that the work of destruction was
going forward. Even Balmawhapple seemed moved to take some
precautions, by sending an advanced party in front of his troop,
keeping the main body in tolerable order, and moving steadily

Marching in this manner they speedily reached an eminence, from
which they could view Edinburgh stretching along the ridgy hill
which slopes eastward from the Castle. The latter, being in a
state of siege, or rather of blockade, by the northern
insurgents, who had already occupied the town for two or three
days, fired at intervals upon such parties of Highlanders as
exposed themselves, either on the main street, or elsewhere in
the vicinity of the fortress. The morning being calm and fair,
the effect of this dropping fire was to invest the Castle in
wreaths of smoke, the edges of which dissipated slowly in the
air, while the central veil was darkened ever and anon by fresh
clouds poured forth from the battlements; the whole giving, by
the partial concealment, an appearance of grandeur and gloom,
rendered more terrific when Waverley reflected on the cause by
which it was produced, and that each explosion might ring some
brave man's knell.

Ere they approached the city, the partial cannonade had wholly
ceased. Balmawhapple, however, having in his recollection the
unfriendly greeting which his troop had received from the battery
of Stirling, had apparently no wish to tempt the forbearance of
the artillery of the Castle. He therefore left the direct road,
and sweeping considerably to the southward, so as to keep out of
the range of the cannon, approached the ancient palace of
Holyrood, without having entered the walls of the city. He then
drew up his men in front of that venerable pile, and delivered
Waverley to the custody of a guard of Highlanders, whose officer
conducted him into the interior of the building.

A long, low, and ill-proportioned gallery, hung with pictures,
affirmed to be the portraits of kings, who, if they ever
flourished at all, lived several hundred years before the
invention of painting in oil colours, served as a sort of guard-
chamber, or vestibule, to the apartments which the adventurous
Charles Edward now occupied in the palace of his ancestors.
Officers, both in the Highland and Lowland garb, passed and
repassed in haste, or loitered in the hall, as if waiting for
orders. Secretaries were engaged in making out passes, musters,
and returns. All seemed busy, and earnestly intent upon
something of importance; but Waverley was suffered to remain
seated in the recess of a window, unnoticed by any one, in
anxious reflection upon the crisis of his fate, which seemed now
rapidly approaching.



While he was deep sunk in his reverie, the rustle of tartans was
heard behind him, a friendly arm clasped his shoulders, and a
friendly voice exclaimed,

'Said the Highland prophet sooth?--or must second-sight go for

Waverley turned, and was warmly embraced by Fergus Mac-Ivor. 'A
thousand welcomes to Holyrood, once more possessed by her
legitimate sovereign! Did I not say we should prosper, and that
you would fall into the hands of the Philistines if you parted
from us?'

'Dear Fergus!' said Waverley, eagerly returning his greeting,
'it is long since I have heard a friend's voice. Where is

'Safe, and a triumphant spectator of our success.'

'In this place?' said Waverley.

'Aye, in this city at least,' answered his friend, 'and you shall
see her; but first you must meet a friend whom you little think
of, who has been frequent in his inquiries after you.'

Thus saying, he dragged Waverley by the arm out of the guard-
chamber, and, ere he knew where he was conducted, Edward found
himself in a presence-room, fitted up with some attempt at royal

A young man, wearing his own fair hair, distinguished by the
dignity of his mien and the noble expression of his well-formed
and regular features, advanced out of a circle of military
gentlemen and Highland chiefs, by whom he was surrounded. In his
easy and graceful manners Waverley afterwards thought he could
have discovered his high birth and rank, although the star on his
breast, and the embroidered garter at his knee, had not appeared
as its indications.

'Let me present to your Royal Highness,' said Fergus, bowing

'The descendant of one of the most ancient and loyal families in
England,' said the young Chevalier, interrupting him. 'I beg
your pardon for interrupting you, my dear Mac-Ivor; but no master
of ceremonies is necessary to present a Waverley to a Stuart.'

Thus saying, he extended his hand to Edward with the utmost
courtesy, who could not, had he desired it, have avoided
rendering him the homage which seemed due to his rank, and was
certainly the right of his birth. 'I am sorry to understand, Mr.
Waverley, that, owing to circumstances which have been as yet but
ill explained, you have suffered some restraint among my
followers in Perthshire, and on your march here; but we are in
such a situation that we hardly know our friends, and I am even
at this moment uncertain whether I can have the pleasure of
considering Mr. Waverley as among mine.'

He then paused for an instant; but before Edward could adjust a
suitable reply or even arrange his ideas as to its purport, the
Prince took out a paper, and then proceeded:--'I should indeed
have no doubts upon this subject, if I could trust to this
proclamation, set forth by the friends of the Elector of Hanover,
in which they rank Mr. Waverley among the nobility and gentry who
are menaced with the pains of high treason for loyalty to their
legitimate sovereign. But I desire to gain no adherents save
from affection and conviction; and if Mr. Waverley inclines to
prosecute his journey to the south, or to join the forces of the
Elector, he shall have my passport and free permission to do so;
and I can only regret, that my present power will not extend to
protect him against the probable consequences of such a measure.
--But,' continued Charles Edward, after another short pause, 'if
Mr. Waverley should, like his ancestor, Sir Nigel, determine to
embrace a cause which has little to recommend it but its justice,
and follow a prince who throws himself upon the affections of his
people to recover the throne of his ancestors, or perish in the
attempt, I can only say, that among these nobles and gentlemen he
will find worthy associates in a gallant enterprise, and will
follow a master who may be unfortunate, but, I trust, will never
be ungrateful.'

The politic Chieftain of the race of Ivor knew his advantage in
introducing Waverley to this personal interview with the royal
Adventurer. Unaccustomed to the address and manners of a
polished court, in which Charles was eminently skilful, his words
and his kindness penetrated the heart of our hero, and easily
outweighed all prudential motives. To be thus personally
solicited for assistance by a Prince, whose form and manners, as
well as the spirit which he displayed in this singular
enterprise, answered his ideas of a hero of romance; to be
courted by him in the ancient halls of his paternal palace,
recovered by the sword which he was already bending towards other
conquests, gave Edward, in his own eyes, the dignity and
importance which he had ceased to consider as his attributes.
Rejected, slandered, and threatened upon the one side, he was
irresistibly attracted to the cause which the prejudices of
education, and the political principles of his family, had
already recommended as the most just. These thoughts rushed
through his mind like a torrent, sweeping before them every
consideration of an opposite tendency,--the time, besides,
admitted of no deliberation,--and Waverley, kneeling to Charles
Edward, devoted his heart and sword to the vindication of his

The Prince (for, although unfortunate in the faults and follies
of his forefathers, we shall here, and elsewhere, give him the
title due to his birth) raised Waverley from the ground, and
embraced him with an expression of thanks too warm not to be
genuine. He also thanked Fergus Mac-Ivor repeatedly for having
brought him such an adherent, and presented Waverley to the
various noblemen, chieftains, and officers who were about his
person, as a young gentleman of the highest hopes and prospects,
in whose bold and enthusiastic avowal of his cause they might see
an evidence of the sentiments of the English families of rank at
this important crisis. [See Note 23.] Indeed, this was a point
much doubted among the adherents of the house of Stuart; and as a
well-founded disbelief in the co-operation of the English
Jacobites kept many Scottish men of rank from his standard, and
diminished the courage of those who had joined it, nothing could
be more seasonable for the Chevalier than the open declaration in
his favour of the representative of the house of Waverley-Honour,
so long known as cavaliers and royalists. This Fergus had
foreseen from the beginning. He really loved Waverley, because
their feelings and projects never thwarted each other; he hoped
to see him united with Flora, and he rejoiced that they were
effectually engaged in the same cause. But, as we before hinted,
he also exulted as a politician in beholding secured to his party
a partisan of such consequence; and he was far from being
insensible to the personal importance which he himself gained
with the Prince, from having so materially assisted in making the

Charles Edward, on his part, seemed eager to show his attendants
the value which he attached to his new adherent, by entering
immediately, as in confidence, upon the circumstances of his
situation. 'You have been secluded so much from intelligence,
Mr. Waverley, from causes of which I am but indistinctly
informed, that I presume you are even yet unacquainted with the
important particulars of my present situation. You have,
however, heard of my landing in the remote district of Moidart,
with only seven attendants, and of the numerous chiefs and clans
whose loyal enthusiasm at once placed a solitary adventurer at
the head of a gallant army. You must also, I think, have
learned, that the commander-in-chief of the Hanoverian Elector,
Sir John Cope, marched into the Highlands at the head of a
numerous and well-appointed military force, with the intention of
giving us battle, but that his courage failed him when we were
within three hours' march of each other, so that he fairly gave
us the slip, and marched northward to Aberdeen, leaving the Low
Country open and undefended. Not to lose so favourable an
opportunity, I marched on to this metropolis, driving before me
two regiments of horse, Gardiner's and Hamilton's, who had
threatened to cut to pieces every Highlander that should venture
to pass Stirling; and while discussions were carrying forward
among the magistracy and citizens of Edinburgh, whether they
should defend themselves or surrender, my good friend Lochiel
(laying his hand on the shoulder of that gallant and accomplished
chieftain) saved them the trouble of further deliberation, by
entering the gates with five hundred Camerons. Thus far,
therefore, we have done well; but, in the meanwhile, this doughty
general's nerves being braced by the keen air of Aberdeen, he has
taken shipping for Dunbar, and I have just received certain
information that he landed there yesterday. His purpose must
unquestionably be to march towards us to recover possession of
the capital. Now, there are two opinions in my council of war:
one, that being inferior probably in numbers, and certainly in
discipline and military appointments, not to mention our total
want of artillery, and the weakness of our cavalry, it will be
safest to fall back towards the mountains, and there protract the
war, until fresh succours arrive from France, and the whole body
of the Highland clans shall have taken arms in our favour. The
opposite opinion maintains, that a retrograde movement, in our
circumstances, is certain to throw utter discredit on our arms
and undertaking; and, far from gaining us new partisans, will be
the means of disheartening-those who have joined our standard.
The officers who use these last arguments, among whom is your
friend Fergus Mac-Ivor, maintain, that if the Highlanders are
strangers to the usual military discipline of Europe, the
soldiers whom they are to encounter are no less strangers to
their peculiar and formidable mode of attack; that the attachment
and courage of the chiefs and gentlemen are not to be doubted;
and that as they will be in the midst of the enemy, their
clansmen will as surely follow them; in fine, that having drawn
the sword, we should throw away the scabbard, and trust our cause
to battle, and to the God of Battles. Will Mr. Waverley favour
us with his opinion in these arduous circumstances?'

Waverley coloured high betwixt pleasure and modesty at the
distinction implied in this question, and answered, with equal
spirit-and readiness, that he could not venture to offer an
opinion as derived from military skill, but that the counsel
would be far the most acceptable to him which should first afford
him an opportunity to evince his zeal in his Royal Highness's

'Spoken like a Waverley!' answered Charles Edward; and that you
may hold a rank in some degree corresponding to your name, allow
me, instead of the captain's commission which you have lost, to
offer you the brevet rank of major in my service, with the
advantage of acting as one of my aides de camp until you can be
attached to a regiment, of which I hope several will be speedily

'Your Royal Highness will forgive me,' answered Waverley (for his
recollection turned to Balmawhapple and his scanty troop), 'If I
decline accepting any rank until the time and place where I may
have interest enough to raise a sufficient body of men to make my
command useful to your Royal Highness's service. In the
meanwhile, I hope for your permission to serve as a volunteer
under my friend Fergus Mac-Ivor.'

'At least,' said the Prince, who was obviously pleased with this
proposal, 'allow me the pleasure of arming you after the Highland
fashion.' With these words, he unbuckled the broadsword which he
wore, the belt of which was plated with silver, and the steel
basket-hilt richly and curiously inlaid, 'The blade,' said the
Prince, 'is a genuine Andrea Ferrara; it has been a sort of
heirloom in our family; but I am convinced I put it into better
hands than my own, and will add to it pistols of the same
workmanship.--Colonel Mac-Ivor, you must have much to say to your
friend; I will detain you no longer from your private
conversation; but remember, we expect you both to attend us in
the evening. It may be perhaps the last night we may enjoy in
these halls, and as we go to the field with a clear conscience,
we will spend the eve of battle merrily.'

Thus licensed, the Chief and Waverley left the presence-chamber.



'How do you like him?' was Fergus's first question, as they
descended the large stone staircase.

'A prince to live and die under,' was Waverley's enthusiastic

'I knew you would think so when you saw him, and I intended you
should have met earlier, but was prevented by your sprain. And
yet he has his foibles, or rather he has difficult cards to play,
and his Irish officers, [See note 24.] who are much about him,
are but sorry advisers,--they cannot discriminate among the
numerous pretensions that are set up. Would you think it--I have
been obliged for the present to suppress an earl's patent,
granted for services rendered ten years ago, for fear of exciting
the jealousy, forsooth, of C-- and M--. But you were very right,
Edward, to refuse the situation of aide de camp. There are two
vacant, indeed, but Clanronald and Lochiel, and almost all of us,
have requested one for young Aberchallader, and the Lowlanders
and the Irish party are equally desirous to have the other for
the Master of F--. Now, if either of these candidates were to be
superseded in your favour, you would make enemies. And then I am
surprised that the Prince should have offered you a majority,
when he knows very well that nothing short of lieutenant-colonel
will satisfy others, who cannot bring one hundred and fifty men
to the field. "But patience, cousin, and shuffle the cards!" It
is all very well for the present, and we must have you regularly
equipped for the evening in your new costume; for, to say truth,
your outward man is scarce fit for a court.'

'Why,' said Waverley, looking at his soiled dress, 'my shooting-
jacket has seen service since we parted; but that, probably, you,
my friend, know as well or better than I.'

'You do my second-sight too much honour,' said Fergus, 'We were
so busy, first with the scheme of giving battle to Cope, and
afterwards with our operations in the Lowlands, that I could only
give general directions to such of our people as were left in
Perthshire to respect and protect you, should you come in their
way. But let me hear the full story of your adventures, for they
have reached us in a very partial and mutilated manner.'

Waverley then detailed at length the circumstances with which the
reader is already acquainted, to which Fergus listened with great
attention. By this time they had reached the door of his
quarters, which he had taken up in a small paved court, retiring
from the street called the Canongate, at the house of a buxom
widow of forty, who seemed to smile very graciously upon the
handsome young Chief, she being a person with whom good looks and
good humour were sure to secure an interest, whatever might be
the party's political opinions. Here Callum Beg received them
with a smile of recognition. 'Callum,' said the Chief, 'call
Shemus an Snachad' (James of the Needle). This was the
hereditary tailor of Vich Ian Vohr. 'Shemus, Mr. Waverley is to
wear the CATH DATH (battle colour, or tartan); his trews must be
ready in four hours. You know the measure of a well-made man:
two double nails to the small of the leg'--

'Eleven from haunch to heel, seven round the waist--I give your
honour leave to hang Shemus, if there's a pair of sheers in the
Highlands that has a baulder sneck than her's ain at the CUMADH
AN TRUAIS' (shape of the trews).

'Get a plaid of Mac-Ivor tartan, and sash,' continued the
Chieftain, 'and a blue bonnet of the Prince's pattern, at Mr.
Mouat's in the Crames. My short green coat, with silver lace and
silver buttons, will fit him exactly, and I have never worn it.
Tell Ensign Maccombich to pick out a handsome target from among
mine. The Prince has given Mr. Waverley broadsword and pistols,
I will furnish him with a dirk and purse; add but a pair of low-
heeled shoes, and then, my dear Edward (turning to him), you will
be a complete son of Ivor.

These necessary directions given, the Chieftain resumed the
subject of Waverley's adventures. 'It is plain,' he said, 'that
you have been in the custody of Donald Bean Lean. You must know,
that when I marched away my clan to join the Prince, I laid my
injunctions on that worthy member of society to perform a certain
piece of service, which done, he was to join me with all the
force he could muster. But instead of doing so, the gentleman,
finding the coast clear, thought it better to make war on his own
account, and has scoured the country, plundering, I believe, both
friend and foe, under pretence of levying blackmail, sometimes as
if by my authority, and sometimes (and be cursed to his
consummate impudence) in his own great name! Upon my honour, if
I live to see the cairn of Benmore again, I shall be tempted to
hang that fellow! I recognize his hand particularly in the mode
of your rescue from that canting rascal Gilfillan, and I have
little doubt that Donald himself played the part of the pedlar on
that occasion; but how he should not have plundered you, or put
you to ransom, or availed himself in some way or other of your
captivity for his own advantage, passes my judgement.'

'When and how did you hear the intelligence of my confinement?'
asked Waverley.

'The Prince himself told me,' said Fergus,' and inquired very
minutely into your history. He then mentioned your being at that
moment in the power of one of our northern parties--you know I
could not ask him to explain particulars--and requested my
opinion about disposing of you. I recommended that you should be
brought here as a prisoner, because I did not wish to prejudice
you further with the English Government, in case you pursued your
purpose of going southward. I knew nothing, you must recollect,
of the charge brought against you of aiding and abetting high
treason, which, I presume, had some share in changing your
original plan. That sullen, good-for-nothing brute,
Balmawhapple, was sent to escort you from Doune, with what he
calls his troop of horse. As to his behaviour, in addition to
his natural antipathy to everything that resembles a gentleman,
I presume his adventure with Bradwardine rankles in his
recollection, the rather that I dare say his mode of telling that
story contributed to the evil reports which reached your quondam

'Very likely,' said Waverley; 'but now surely, my dear Fergus,
you may find time to tell me something of Flora.'

'Why,' replied Fergus, 'I can only tell you that she is well, and
residing for the present with a relation in this city. I thought
it better she should come here, as since our success a good many
ladies of rank attend our military court; and I assure you, that
there is a sort of consequence annexed to the near relative of
such a person as Flora Mac-Ivor; and where there is such a
justling of claims and requests, a man must use every fair means
to enhance his importance.'

There was something in this last sentence which grated on
Waverley's feelings. He could not bear that Flora should be
considered as conducing to her brother's preferment, by the
admiration which she must unquestionably attract; and although it
was in strict correspondence with many points of Fergus's
character, it shocked him as selfish, and unworthy of his
sister's high mind, and his own independent pride. Fergus, to
whom such manoeuvres were familiar, as to one brought up at the
French court, did not observe the unfavourable impression which
he had unwarily made upon his friend's mind, and concluded by
saying, that they could hardly see Flora before the evening, when
she would be at the concert and ball, with which the Prince's
party were to be entertained. She and I had a quarrel about her
not appearing to take leave of you. I am unwilling to renew it,
by soliciting her to receive you this morning; and perhaps my
doing so might not only be ineffectual, but prevent your meeting
this evening.'

While thus conversing, Waverley heard in the court, before the
windows of the parlour, a well-known voice. 'I aver to you, my
worthy friend,' said the speaker, 'that it is a total dereliction
of military discipline; and were you not as it were a TYRO, your
purpose would deserve strong reprobation. For a prisoner of war
is on no account to be coerced with fetters, or detained IN
ERGASTULO, as would have been the case had you put this gentleman
into the pit of the peel-house at Balmawhapple. I grant, indeed,
that such a prisoner may for security be coerced IN CARCERE, that
is, in a public prison.'

The growling voice of Balmawhapple was heard as taking leave in
displeasure, but the word 'land-louper' alone was distinctly
audible. He had disappeared before Waverley reached the house,
in order to greet the worthy Baron of Bradwardine. The uniform
in which he was now attired, a blue coat, namely, with gold lace,
a scarlet waistcoat and breeches, and immense jack-boots, seemed
to have added fresh stiffness and rigidity to his tall,
perpendicular figure; and the consciousness of military command
and authority had increased, in the same proportion, the self-
importance of his demeanour, and the dogmatism of his

He received Waverley with his usual kindness, and expressed
immediate anxiety to hear an explanation of the circumstances
attending the loss of his commission in Gardiner's dragoons;
'not,' he said, 'that he had the least apprehension of his young
friend having done aught which could merit such ungenerous
treatment as he had received from Government, but because it was
right and seemly that the Baron of Bradwardine should be, in
point of trust and in point of power, fully able to refute all
calumnies against the heir of Waverley-Honour, whom he had so
much right to regard as his own son.'

Fergus Mac-Ivor, who had now joined them, went hastily over the
circumstances of Waverley's story, and concluded with the
flattering reception he had met from the young Chevalier. The
Baron listened in silence, and at the conclusion shook Waverley
heartily by the hand, and congratulated him upon entering the
service of his lawful Prince. 'For,' continued he, 'although it
has been justly held in all nations a matter of scandal and
dishonour to infringe the SACRAMENTUM MILITARE, and that whether
it was taken by each soldier singly, whilk the Romans denominated
PER CONJURATIONEM, or by one soldier in name of the rest, yet no
one ever doubted that the allegiance so sworn was discharged by
the DIMISSIO, or discharging of a soldier, whose case would be as
hard as that of colliers, salters, and other ADSCRIPTI GLEBAE, or
slaves of the soil, were it to be accounted otherwise. This is
something like the brocard expressed by the learned Sanchez in
his work DE JURE-JURANDO, which you have questionless consulted
upon this occasion. As for those who have calumniated you by
leasing-making, I protest to Heaven I think they have justly
incurred the penalty of the MEMNONIA LEX, also called LEX
RHEMNIA, which is prelected upon by Tullius in his oration IN
VERREM. I should have deemed, however, Mr. Waverley, that before
destining yourself to any special service in the army of the
Prince, ye might have inquired what rank the old Bradwardine held
there, and whether he would not have been peculiarly happy to
have had your services in the regiment of horse which he is now
about to levy.'

Edward eluded this reproach by pleading the necessity of giving
an immediate answer to the Prince's proposal, and his uncertainty
at the moment whether his friend the Baron was with the army, or
engaged upon service elsewhere.

This punctilio being settled, Waverley made inquiry after Miss
Bradwardine, and was informed she had come to Edinburgh with
Flora Mac-Ivor, under guard of a party of the Chieftain's men.
This step was indeed necessary, Tully-Veolan having become a very
unpleasant, and even dangerous place of residence for an
unprotected young lady, on account of its vicinity to the
Highlands, and also to one or two large villages, which, from
aversion as much to the Caterans as zeal for presbytery, had
declared themselves on the side of Government, and formed
irregular bodies of partisans, who had frequent skirmishes with
the mountaineers, and sometimes attacked the houses of the
Jacobite gentry in the braes, or frontier betwixt the mountain
and plain.

'I would propose to you,' continued the Baron, 'to walk as far as
my quarters in the Luckenbooths, and to admire in your passage
the High Street, whilk is, beyond a shadow of dubitation, finer
than 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 CONCLAMARE VASA, that
is, truss up their bag and baggage for to-morrow's march.'

'That will be easily done by most of us,' said Mac-Ivor,

'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.'

'Aye,' 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

'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

'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.



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 its 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

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 of 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 Ian Vohr, often of a Sunday

'Lord forgie ye, Ensign Maccombich,' said the alarmed
Presbyterian; 'I'm sure the colonel wad never do the like o'

'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 red-coats!'
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 Ian 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 turn-spit 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 Ian 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
MILITAIRE 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, to help you?'
[The Doutelle was an armed vessel, which brought a small supply
of money and arms from France for the use of the insurgents.]

'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 to-night, and will be all one to-morrow, 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. Waverley, 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 [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 Ian 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 sympathized 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 dress 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
--dovecots--with the right of net and coble in the water and loch
of Veolan--teinds, parsonage and vicarage--annexis, connexis--
rights of pasturage--fuel, 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

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-Snacbus (meaning, probably, annexis, connexis), and
a' the rest of your friends, maun gie place to the langest

'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, &c.
With duns and with debts we will soon clear our score,
Lillibulero, &c.
For the man that's thus paid will crave payment no more,
Lero, Lero, &c.
[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,' [i.e. contiguous] said the
Bairie, wiping his eyes, 'and should naturally fa' under the same

'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.
Oh, 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.



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 has 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 Graeme,
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

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

'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

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 postboy have prevailed
upon them to proceed a mile or two, they will become callous to
the first sensation; and being warm at the harness, as the said
postboy 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 a 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) [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 a 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 to-morrow 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.' [Which is, or was wont to be, the old air of 'Good-
night, and joy be with you a'!']

'Good-night, then, said the Chevalier, rising; 'Good-night, 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 volueres 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.'



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 Ian 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 Mac-Ivor' 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 harmonized.

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 yere honour bang up? Vich Ian Vohr and ta
Prince are awa to the lang green glen ahint the clachan, tat they
ca' the King's Park, and mony ane's on his ain shanks the day,
that will be carried on ither folk's ere night.' [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

Waverley sprang 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 Inn
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

'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 both of 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 Mac-Ivor; 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

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 strike, 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 Mac-Farlanes; FORTH
FORTUNE, AND FILL THE FETTERS, the motto of the Marquis of
Tuilibardine; BYDAND, that of Lord Lewis Gordon; and the
appropriate signal words and emblems of many other chieftains and

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 at
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 enclosures to the right, at the expense of leaping over or
pulling down the dry-stone 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 Ian 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 easting 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 broadsword, 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 title to his countenance and protection.
Finer and hardier men could not have been selected out of any
army in Christendom; while the free and independent habits which
each possessed, and which each was yet so well taught to subject
to the command of his chief, and the peculiar mode of discipline
adopted in Highland warfare, rendered them equally formidable by
their individual courage and high spirit, and from their rational
conviction of the necessity of acting in unison, and of giving
their national mode of attack the fullest opportunity of success.

But, in a lower rank to these, there were found individuals of an
inferior description, the common peasantry of the Highland
country, who, although they did not allow themselves to be so
called, and claimed often, with apparent truth, to be of more
ancient descent than the masters whom they served, bore,
nevertheless, the livery of extreme penury, being indifferently
accoutred, and worse armed, half naked, stinted in growth, and
miserable in aspect. Each important clan had some of those
Helots attached to them;--thus, the Mac-Couls, though tracing
their descent from Comhal, the father of Finn or Fingal, were a
sort of Gibeonites, or hereditary servants to the Stewarts of
Appin; the Macbeths, descended from the unhappy monarch of that
name, were subjects to the Morays, and clan Donnochy, or
Robertsons of Athole; and many other examples might be given,
were it not for the risk of hurting any pride of clanship which
may yet be left, and thereby drawing a Highland tempest into the
shop of my publisher. Now these same Helots, though forced into
the field by the arbitrary authority of the chieftains under whom
they hewed wood and drew water, were, in general, very sparingly
fed, ill dressed, and worse armed. The latter circumstance was
indeed owing chiefly to the general disarming act, which had been
carried into effect ostensibly through the whole Highlands,
although most of the chieftains contrived to elude-its influence,
by retaining the weapons of their own immediate clansmen, and
delivering up those of less value, which they collected from
these inferior satellites. It followed, as a matter of course,
that, as we have already hinted, many of these poor fellows were
brought to the field in a very wretched condition.

From this it happened, that, in bodies, the van of which were
admirably well armed in their own fashion, the rear resembled
actual banditti. Here was a pole-axe, there a sword without a
scabbard; here a gun without a lock, there a scythe set straight
upon a pole; and some had only their dirks, and bludgeons or
stakes pulled out of hedges. The grim, uncombed, and wild
appearance of these men, most of whom gazed with all the
admiration of ignorance upon the most ordinary production of
domestic art, created surprise in the Lowlands, but it also
created terror. So little was the condition of the Highlands
known at that late period, that the character and appearance of
their population, while thus sallying forth as military
adventurers, conveyed to the south-country Lowlanders as much
surprise as if an invasion of African Negroes or Esquimaux
Indians had issued forth from the northern mountains of their own


Back to Full Books