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or Sectaries of any description; illustrated from the Scriptures, the Fathers of the Church, and the soundest Controversial Divines. To this work the bookseller positively demurred. ‘Well meant, he said, ‘and learned, doubtless; but the time had gone by. Printed on small pica it would run to eight hundred pages, and could never pay. Begged therefore to be excused. Loved and honoured the true church from his soul; and, had it been a sermon on the martyrdom, or any twelve-penny touch— why I would venture something for the honour of the cloth. But come, let's see the other. “Right Hereditary righted !” ah, there's some sense in this ! Hum—hum—hum—pages so many, paper so much, letterpress—Ah ! I'll tell you, though, doctor, you must knock out some of the Latin and Greek; heavy, doctor, damn'd heavy—(beg your pardon) and if you throw in a few grains more pepper—I am he that never peached my author—I have published for Drake, and Charlwood Lawton, and poor Amhurst.” Ah, Caleb | Caleb | Well, it was a shame to let poor Caleb starve, and so many fat rectors and squires among us. I gave him a dinner once a-week; but, Lord love you, what's once a-week, when a man does not know where to go the other six days?—Well, but I must shew the manuscript to little Tom Alibi, the solicitor, who manages all my law affairs—must keep on the windy side—the mob were very uncivil the last time I mounted in Old Palace Yard—all Whigs and Roundheads every man of them, Williamites and Hanover rats.” The next day Mr. Pembroke again called on the publisher, but found Tom Alibi's advice had determined him against undertaking the work. “Not but what I would go to—(what was I going to say?) to the Plantations for the church with pleasure—but, dear doctor, I have a wife and family; but, to show my zeal, I'll recommend the job to my neighbour Trimmel—he is a bachelor, and leaving off business, so a voyage in a western barge would not inconvenience him.’ But Mr. Trimmel was also obdurate, and Mr. Pembroke, fortunately perchance for himself, was compelled to return to Waverley-Honour with his treatise in vindication of the real fundamental principles of church and state safely packed in his saddle-bags. As the public were thus likely to be deprived of the benefit arising from his lucubrations by the selfish cowardice of the trade, Mr. Pembroke resolved to make two copies of these tremendous manuscripts for the use of his pupil. He felt that he had been indolent as a tutor, and, besides, his conscience checked him for complying with the request of Mr. Richard Waverley, that he would impress no sentiments upon Edward's mind inconsistent with the present settlement in church and state. But now, thought he, I may, without breach of my word, since he is no longer under my tuition, afford the youth the means of judging for himself, and have only to dread his reproaches for so long concealing the light which the perusal will flash upon his mind. . While he thus indulged the reveries of an author and a politician, his darling
* Note C. Nicholas Amhurst.
proselyte, seeing nothing very inviting in the title of the tracts, and appalled by the bulk and compact lines of the manuscript, quietly consigned them to a corner of his travelling trunk.
Aunt Rachel's farewell was brief and affectionate. She only cautioned her dear Edward, whom she probably deemed somewhat susceptible, against the fascination of Scottish beauty. She allowed that the northern part of the island contained some ancient families, but they were all Whigs and Presbyterians except the Highlanders; and respecting them she must needs say, there could be no great delicacy among the ladies, where the gentlemen's usual attire was, as she had been assured, to say the least, very singular, and not at all decorous. She concluded her farewell with a kind and moving benediction, and gave the young officer, as a pledge of her regard, a valuable diamond ring (often worn by the male sex at that time), and a purse of broad gold pieces, which also were more common Sixty Years since than they have been of late.
CHAPTER VII. A HORSE-QUARTER IN SCOTLAND.
THE next morning, amid varied feelings, the chief of which was a predominant, anxious, and even solemn impression, that he was now in a great measure abandoned to his own guidance and direction, Edward Waverley departed from the Hall amid the blessings and tears of all the old domestics and the inhabitants of the village, mingled with some sly petitions for serjeantcies and corporalships, and so forth, on the part of those who professed that ‘they never thoft to ha’ seen Jacob, and Giles, and Jonathan, go off for soldiers, save to attend his honour, as in duty bound. Edward, as in duty bound, extricated himself from the supplicants with the pledge of fewer promises than might have been expected from a young man so little accustomed to the world. After a short visit to London, he proceeded on horseback, then the general mode of travelling, to Edinburgh, and from thence to Dundee, a seaport on the eastern coast of Angusshire, where his regiment was then quartered.
He now entered upon a new world, where, for a time, all was beautiful because all was new. Colonel Gardiner, the commanding officer of the regiment, was himself a study for a romantic, and at the same time an inquisitive, youth. In person he was tall, handsome, and active, though somewhat advanced in life. In his early years he had been what is called, by manner of palliative, a very gay young man, and strange stories were circulated about his sudden conversion from doubt, if not infidelity, to a serious and even enthusiastic turn of mind. It was whispered that a supernatural communication, of a nature obvious even to the exterior senses, had produced this wonderful change; and though some mentioned the proselyte as an enthusiast, none hinted at his being a hypocrite. This singular and mystical circumstance gave Colonel
Gardiner a peculiar and solemn interest in the and the landlord, who called himself a gentleeyes of the young soldier. * It may be easily man, was disposed to be rude to his guest imagined that the officers of a regiment, com- because he had not bespoke the pleasure of his manded by so respectable a person, composed a society to supper.t The next day, traversing society more sedate and orderly than a military an open and unenclosed country, Edward gramess always exhibits; and that Waverley escaped dually approached the Highlands of Perthshire, some temptations to which he might otherwise which at first had appeared a blue outline have been exposed.
| in the horizon, but now swelled into huge Meanwhile his military education proceeded. gigantic masses, which frowned defiance over Already a good horseman, he was now initiated | the more level country that lay beneath them. into the arts of the manège, which, when carried | Near the bottom of this stupendous barrier, to perfection, almost realise the fable of the but still in the Lowland country, dwelt, Centaur, the guidance of the horse appearing to Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine of Bradwardine ; proceed from the rider's mere volition, rather and, if grey-haired eld can be in aught bethan from the use of any external and apparent lieved, there had dwelt his ancestors, with all signal of motion. He received also instructions their heritage, since the days of the gracious in his field duty; but, I must own, that when King Duncan. his first ardour was passed, his progress fell short in the latter particular of what he wished and expected. The duty of an officer, the most imposing of all others to the inexperienced mind,
CHAPTER VIII. because accompanied with so much outward pomp and circumstance, is in its essence a very A SCOTTISH MANOR-HOUSE SIXTY YEARS dry and abstract task, depending chiefly upon
SINCE. arithmetical combinations, requiring much attention, and a cool and reasoning head, to bring It was about noon when Captain Waverley them into action. Our hero was liable to fits of entered the straggling village, or rather hamlet, absence, in which his blunders excited some of Tully-Veolan, close to which was situated the mirth, and called down some reproof. This mansion of the proprietor. The houses seemed circumstance impressed him with a painful sense miserable in the extreme, especially to an eye of inferiority in those qualities which appeared accustomed to the smiling neatness of English most to deserve and obtain regard in his new cottages. They stood, without any respect for profession. He asked himself in vain, why his regularity, on each side of a straggling kind of eye could not judge of distance or space so well unpaved street, where children, almost in a as those of his companions; why his head was primitive state of nakedness, lay sprawling, as not always successful in disentangling the various if to be crushed by the hoofs of the first passing partial movements necessary to execute a par horse. Occasionally, indeed, when such a conticular evolution ; and why his memory, so alert summation seemed inevitable, a watchful old upon most occasions, did not correctly retain grandam, with her close cap, distaff, and spindle, technical phrases, and minute points of etiquette rushed like a sibyl in frenzy out of one of these or field discipline. Waverley was naturally miserable cells, dashed into the middle of the modest, and therefore did not fall into the path, and snatching up her own charge from egregious mistake of supposing such minuter among the sun-burnt loiterers, saluted him with rules of military duty beneath his notice, or a sound cuff, and transported him back to his conceiting himself to be born a general, because dungeon, the little white-headed varlet screamhe made an indifferent subaltern. The truth ing all the while, from the very top of his lungs, was, that the vague and unsatisfactory course of a shrilly treble to the growling remonstrances reading which he had pursued, working upon a of the enraged matron. Another part in this temper naturally retired and abstracted, had concert was sustained by the incessant yelping given him that wavering and unsettled habit of of a score of idle useless curs, which followed, mind which is most averse to study and rivetted | snarling, barking, howling, and snapping at the attention. Time, in the meanwhile, hung heavy | horses' heels; a nuisance at that time so common on his hands. The gentry of the neighbourhood in Scotland, that a French tourist, who, like were disaffected, and showed little hospitality to other travellers, longed to find a good and the military guests; and the people of the town, rational reason for everything he saw, has chiefly engaged in mercantile pursuits, were not recorded, as one of the memorabilia of Calesuch as Waverley chose to associate with. The donia, that the state maintained in each village arrival of summer, and a curiosity to know some | a relay of curs, called collies, whose duty it was thing more of Scotland than he could see in a to chase the chevaux de poste (too starved and ride from his quarters, determined him to request exhausted to move without such a stimulus) leave of absence for a few weeks. He resolved from one hamlet to another, till their annoying first to visit his uncle's ancient friend and corre convoy drove them to the end of their stage. spondent, with the purpose of extending or The evil and remedy (such as it is) still exist; shortening the time of his residence according but this is remote from our present purpose, to circumstances. He travelled of course on and is only thrown out for consideration of the horseback, and with a single attendant, and collectors under Mr. Dent's dog-bill. passed his first night at a miserable inn, where As Waverley moved on, here and there an old the landlady had neither shoes nor stockings, man, bent as much by toil as years, his eyes
* Note D. Colonel Gardiner.
† Note E. Scottish Inns.
bleared with age and smoke, tottered to the door of his hut, to gaze on the dress of the stranger, and the form and motions of the horses, and then assembled with his neighbours, in a little group at the smithy, to discuss the probabilities of whence the stranger came, and where he might be going. Three or four village girls, returning from the well or brook with pitchers and pails upon their heads, formed more pleasing objects; and, with their thin short-gowns and single petticoats, bare arms, legs, and feet, £ heads, and braided hair, somewhat resembled Italian forms of landscape. Nor could a lover of the picturesque have challenged either the elegance of their costume, or the symmetry of their shape; although, to say the truth, a mere Englishman, in search of the comfortable, a word peculiar to his native tongue, might have wished the clothes less scanty, the feet and legs somewhat protected from the weather, the head and complexion shrouded from the sun, or perhaps might even have thought the whole person and dress considerably improved, by a plentiful application of spring water, with a quantum sufficit of soap. The whole scene was depressing; for it £ at the first glance, at least a stagnation of industry, and perhaps of intellect. Even curiosity, the busiest passion of the idle, seemed of a listless cast in the village of Tully-Weolan: the curs aforesaid alone showed any part of its activity; with the villagers it was passive. They stood and gazed at the handsome young officer and his attendant, but without any of those quick motions, and eager looks, that indicate the earnestness with which those who live in monotonous ease at home, look out for amusement abroad. Yet the physiognomy of the people, when more closely examined, was far from exhibiting the indifference of stupidity: their features were rough, but £ intelligent; grave, but the very reverse of stupid; and from among the young women, an artist might have chosen more than one model, whose features and form resembled those of Minerva. The children, also, whose skins were burnt black, and whose hair was bleached white, by the influence of the sun, had a look and manner of life and interest. It seemed, upon the whole, as if poverty, and indolence, its too frequent companion, were combining to depress the natural genius and acquired information of a hardy, intelligent, and reflecting peasantry. Some such thoughts crossed Waverley's mind as he paced his horse slowly through the rugged and flinty street of Tully-Veolan, interrupted only in his meditations by the occasional caprioles which his charger exhibited at the reiterated assaults of those canine Cossacks, the collies before mentioned. The village was more than half a mile long, the cottages being irregularly divided from each other by gardens, or yards, as the inhabitants called them, of different sizes, where (for it is Sixty Years since) the now
universal potato was unknown, but which were
stored with gigantic plants of kale or colewort, encircled with groves of nettles, and exhibited here and there a huge hemlock, or the national thistle, overshadowing a quarter of the petty
enclosure. The broken ground on which the village was built had never been levelled; so that these enclosures presented declivities of every degree, here rising like terraces, there sinking like tanpits. The dry-stone walls which fenced, or seemed to fence (for they were sorely breached), these hanging gardens of TullyVeolan, were intersected by a narrow lane leading to the common field, where the joint labour of the villagers cultivated alternate ridges and patches of rye, oats, barley, and peas, each of such minute extent, that at a little distance the unprofitable variety of the surface resembled a tailor's book of patterns. In a few favoured instances, there appeared behind the cottages a miserable wigwam, compiled of earth, loose stones, and turf, where the wealthy might £" sheiter a starved cow or sorely galled orse. But almost every hut was fenced in front by a huge black stack of turf on one side of the door, while on the other the family dunghill ascended in noble emulation. About a bow-shot from the end of the village £ the enclosures, proudly denominated the Parks of Tully-Weolan, being certain square fields, surrounded and divided by stone walls five feet in height. In the centre of the exterior barrier was the upper gate of the avenue, opening under an archway, battlemented on the top, and adorned with two large weather-beaten mutilated masses of upright stone, which, if the tradition of the hamlet could be trusted, had once represented, at least had been once designed to represent, two rampant Bears, the supporters of the family of Bradwardine. This avenue was straight, and of moderate length, running between a double row of very ancient horsechestnuts, planted alternately with sycamores,
which rose to such huge height, and flourished
so luxuriantly, that their boughs completely over-arched the broad road beneath. Beyond these venerable ranks, and running parallel to them, were two high walls, of apparently the like antiquity, overgrown with ' honeysuckle, and other climbing plants. e a Venue seemed very little trodden, and chiefly by footpassengers; so that being very broad, and enjoying a constant shade, it was clothed with grass of a deep and rich verdure, excepting where a foot-path, worn by occasional passengers, tracked with a natural sweep the way from the '' to the lower gate. This nether portal, like the former, opened in front of a wall ornamented with some rude sculpture, with battlements on the top, over which were seen, half-hidden by the trees of the avenue, the high steep roofs and narrow gables of the mansion, with lines indented into steps, and corners decorated with small turrets. One of the folding leaves of the lower gate was open, and as the sun shone full into the court behind, a long line of brilliancy was flung upon the aperture up the dark and gloomy avenue. It was one of those effects which a painter loves to represent, and mingled well with the struggling light which found its way between the boughs of the shady arch that vaulted the broad green alley. The solitude and repose of the whole scene seemed almost romantic; and Waverley, who
had given his horse to his servant on entering and the whole scene still maintained the the first gate, walked slowly down the avenue, monastic illusion which the fancy of Waverley enjoying the grateful and cooling shade, and so had conjured up.-And here we beg permission much pleased with the placid ideas of rest and to close a chapter of still life. * seclusion excited by this confined and quiet scene, that he forgot the misery and dirt of the hamlet he had left behind him. The opening into the paved court-yard corresponded with the
CHAPTER IX. rest of the scene. The house, which seemed to consist of two or three high, narrow, and steep MORE OF THE MÀNOR-HOUSE AND ITS roofed buildings, projecting from each other at
ENVIRONS. right angles, formed one side of the enclosure. It had been built at a period when castles were AFTER having satisfied his curiosity by gazing no longer necessary, and when the Scottish around him for a few minutes, Waverley applied architects had not yet acquired the art of himself to the massive knocker of the hall designing a domestic residence. The windows door, the architrave of which bore the date 1594. were numberless, but very small; the roof had | But no answer was returned, though the peal some nondescript kind of projections, called | resounded through a number of apartments, and bartizans, and displayed at each frequent angle was echoed from the court-yard walls without a small turret, rather resembling a pepper-box the house, startling the pigeons from the venerthan a Gothic watch - tower. Neither did the able rotunda which they occupied, and alarming front indicate absolute security from danger. anew even the distant village curs, which had There were loop-holes for musketry, and iron retired to sleep upon their respective dunghills. stancheons on the lower windows, probably to Tired of the đin which he created, and the unrepel any roving band of gipsies, or resist a profitable responses which it excited, Waverley predatory visit from the Caterans of the neigh- began to think that he had reached the castle of bouring Highlands. Stables and other offices Orgoglio, as entered by the victorious Prince occupied another side of the square. The former | Arthur, were low vaults, with narrow slits instead of
When 'gan he loudly through the house to call, windows, resembling, as Edward's groom ob But no man cared to answer to his cry; served, rather a prison for murderers and There reigned a solemn silence over all, larceners, and such like as are tried at 'sizes,
Nor voice was heard, nor wight was seen, in bower or hall. than a place for any Christian cattle.' Above Filled almost with expectation of beholding these dungeon-looking stables were granaries, some old, old man, with beard as white as called girnels, and other offices, to which there snow,' whom he might question concerning this was access by outside stairs of heavy masonry. deserted mansion, our hero turned to a little Two battlemented walls, one of which faced the oaken wicket-door, well clenched with iron nails, avenue, and the other divided the court from which opened in the court-yard wall at its anglé the garden, completed the enclosure.
with the house. It was only latched, notwithNor was the court without its ornaments. standing its fortified appearance, and when In one corner was a tun-bellied pigeon-house of opened admitted him into the garden, which great size and rotundity, resembling in figure presented a pleasant scene. t The southern side and proportion the curious edifice called Arthur's of the house, clothed with fruit-trees, and having Oven, which would have turned the brains of all | many evergreens trained upon its walls, extended the antiquaries in England, had not the worthy its irregular yet venerable front along a terrace, proprietor pulled it down for the sake of mend. | partly paved, partly gravelled, partly bordered ing a neighbouring dam-dyke. This dovecot, with flowers and choice shrubs. This elevation or columbarium, as the owner called it, was no | descended by three several flights of steps, small resource to a Scottish laird of that period, placed in its centre and at the extremities, into whose scanty rents were eked out by the contri what might be called the garden proper, and butions levied upon the farms by these light foragers, and the conscriptions exacted from the
* There is no particular mansion described under the latter for the benefit of the table.
name of Tully-Veolan; but the peculiarities of the deA corr
scription occur in various old Scottish seats. The house fountain, where a huge bear, carved in stone,
of Warrender upon Bruntsfield Links, and that of Old
Ravelston, belonging, the former to Sir George Warrender, predominated over a large stone basin, into
the latter to Sir Alexander Keith, have both contributed
several hints to the description in the text. The House art was the wonder of the country ten miles of Dean, near Edinburgh, has also some points of resem. round. It must not be forgotten that all sorts
blance with Tully-Veolan. The author has, however,
been informed, that the House of Grandtully resembles of bears, small and large, demi or in full pro that of the Baron of Bradwardine still more than any of portion, were carved over the windows, upon the above. the ends of the gables, terminated the spouts,
† At Ravelston may be seen such a garden, which the
taste of the proprietor, the author's friend and kinsman, and supported the turrets, with the ancient
Sir Alexander Keith, Knight Mareschal, has judiciously family motto, Bewar the Bar,' cut under each preserved. That, as well as the house, is, however, of hyperborean form. The court was spacious,
smaller dimensions than the Baron of Bradwardine's well paved, and perfectly clean, there being
mansion and garden are presumed to have been. probably another entrance behind the stables
[The rampant bears on the gateway are supposed to have been for removing the litter. Everything around
suggested to the author by similar effigies still standing on the gate appeared solitary, and would have been silent, to Traquair House on the Tweed, with which he was well acquainted.
Mr. Lockhart mentions Craighall in Perthshire as another mansion but for the continued plashing of the fountain ; l bearing a likeness to Tully-Veolan.7
was fenced along the top by a stone parapet with a heavy balustrade, ornamented from space to space with huge grotesque figures of animals seated upon their haunches, among which the favourite bear was repeatedly introduced. Placed in the middle of the terrace, between a sasheddoor opening from the house and the central flight of steps, a huge animal of the same species supported on his head and fore-paws a sun-dial of large circumference, inscribed with more diagrams than Edward's mathematics enabled him to decipher. The garden, which seemed to be kept with great accuracy, abounded in fruit-trees, and exhibited a profusion of flowers and evergreens, cut into grotesque forms. It was laid out in terraces, which descended rank by rank from the western wall to a large brook, which had a tranquil and smooth appearance, where it served as a boundary to the garden; but, near the extremity, leapt in tumult over a strong dam, or wear-head, the cause of its temporary tranquillity, and there forming a cascade, was overlooked by an octangular summer-house, with a gilded bear on the top by way of vane. After this feat, the brook, assuming its natural rapid and fierce character, escaped from the eye down a deep and wooded dell, from the copse of which arose a massive, but ruinous tower, the former habitation of the Barons of Bradwardine. The margin of the brook, opposite to the garden, displayed a narrow meadow, or haugh, as it was called, which formed a small washing-green; the bank, which retired behind it, was covered by ancient trees. The scene, though pleasing, was not quite equal to the gardens of Alcina; yet wanted not the ‘due donzellette garrule’ of that enchanted paradise, for upon the green aforesaid two barelegged damsels, each standing in a spacious tub, performed with their feet the office of a patent washing-machine. These did not, however, like the maidens of Armida, remain to greet with their harmony the approaching guest, but, alarmed at the appearance of a handsome stranger on the opposite side, dropped their garments (I should say garment, to be quite correct) over their limbs, which their occupation exposed somewhat too freely, and, with a shrill exclamation of ‘Eh, sirs uttered with an accent between modesty and coquetry, sprung off like deer in different directions. Waverley began to despair of gaining entrance into this solitary and seemingly enchanted mansion, when a man advanced up one of the garden alleys, where he still retained his station. Trusting # might be a gardener, or some domestic belonging to the house, Edward descended the steps in order to meet him; but as the figure approached, and long before he could descry its features, he was struck with the oddity of its appearance and gestures.—Sometimes this mister wight held his hands clasped over his head, like an Indian Jogue in the attitude of penance; sometimes he swung them perpendicularly, like a pendulum, on each side; and anon he slapped them swiftly and repeatedly across his breast, like the substitute used by a hackney-coachman for his usual flogging exercise, when his cattle are idle upon the stand in a
clear frosty day. His gait was as singular as his gestures, for at times he hopped with great perseverance on the right foot, then exchanged that supporter to advance in the same manner on the left, and then putting his feet close together, he hopped upon both at once. His attire, also, was antiquated and extravagant. It consisted in a sort of grey jerkin, with scarlet cuffs and slashed sleeves, showing a scarlet lining; the other parts of the dress corresponded in colour, not forgetting a pair of scarlet stockings, and a scarlet bonnet, proudly surmounted with a turkey's feather. Edward, whom he did not seem to observe, now perceived confirmation in his features of what £ mien and gestures had already announced. It was apparently neither idiocy, nor insanity which gave that wild, unsettled, irregular expression to a face which naturally was rather handsome, but something that resembled a compound of both, where the simplicity of the fool was mixed with the extravagance of a crazed imagination. He sung with great earnestness, and not without some taste, a fragment of an old Scottish ditty:—
False love, and hast thou played me thus
Here lifting up his eyes, which had hitherto been fixed in observing how his feet kept time to the tune, he beheld Waverley, and instantly doffed his cap, with many grotesque signals of surprise, respect, and salutation. Edward, though with little hope of receiving an answer to any constant question, requested to know whether Mr. £ were at home, or where he could find any of the domestics. The questioned party replied,—and, like the witch of Thalaba, ‘still his speech was song,'—
The Knight's to the mountain
This conveyed no information, and Edward, repeating his queries, received a rapid answer, in which, from the haste and peculiarity of the dialect, the word “butler’ was alone intelligible. Waverley then requested to see the butler; upon which the fellow, with a knowing look and nod of intelligence, made a signal to Edward to follow, and began to dance and caper down the alley up which he had made his approaches.— A strange guide this, thought Edward, and not much unlike one of Shakspeare's roynish clowns. I am not over prudent to trust to his pilotage; but wiser men have been led by fools.—By this time he reached the bottom of the alley, where, turning short on a little parterre of flowers, shrouded from the east and north by a close yew hedge, he found an old man at work without his
.* This is a genuine ancient fragment, with some alteration in the last two lines.