THE ADIEUS OF WAVERLEY
It was upon the evening of this memorable Sunday that Sir Everard
entered the library, where he narrowly missed surprising our young
hero as he went through the guards of the broadsword with the
ancient weapon of old Sir Hildebrand, which, being preserved as an
heirloom, usually hung over the chimney in the library, beneath a
picture of the knight and his horse, where the features were
almost entirely hidden by the knight's profusion of curled hair,
and the Bucephalus which he bestrode concealed by the voluminous
robes of the Bath with which he was decorated. Sir Everard
entered, and after a glance at the picture and another at his
nephew, began a little speech, which, however, soon dropt into the
natural simplicity of his common manner, agitated upon the present
occasion by no common feeling. 'Nephew,' he said; and then, as
mending his phrase, 'My dear Edward, it is God's will, and also
the will of your father, whom, under God, it is your duty to obey,
that you should leave us to take up the profession of arms, in
which so many of your ancestors have been distinguished. I have
made such arrangements as will enable you to take the field as
their descendant, and as the probable heir of the house of
Waverley; and, sir, in the field of battle you will remember what
name you bear. And, Edward, my dear boy, remember also that you
are the last of that race, and the only hope of its revival
depends upon you; therefore, as far as duty and honour will
permit, avoid danger--I mean unnecessary danger--and keep no
company with rakes, gamblers, and Whigs, of whom, it is to be
feared, there are but too many in the service into which you are
going. Your colonel, as I am informed, is an excellent man--for a
Presbyterian; but you will remember your duty to God, the Church
of England, and the--' (this breach ought to have been supplied,
according to the rubric, with the word KING; but as,
unfortunately, that word conveyed a double and embarrassing sense,
one meaning de facto and the other de jure, the knight filled up
the blank otherwise)--'the Church of England, and all constituted
authorities.' Then, not trusting himself with any further oratory,
he carried his nephew to his stables to see the horses destined
for his campaign. Two were black (the regimental colour), superb
chargers both; the other three were stout active hacks, designed
for the road, or for his domestics, of whom two were to attend him
from the Hall; an additional groom, if necessary, might be picked
up in Scotland.
'You will depart with but a small retinue,' quoth the Baronet,
'compared to Sir Hildebrand, when he mustered before the gate of
the Hall a larger body of horse than your whole regiment consists
of. I could have wished that these twenty young fellows from my
estate, who have enlisted in your troop, had been to march with
you on your journey to Scotland. It would have been something, at
least; but I am told their attendance would be thought unusual in
these days, when every new and foolish fashion is introduced to
break the natural dependence of the people upon their landlords.'
Sir Everard had done his best to correct this unnatural
disposition of the times; for he had brightened the chain of
attachment between the recruits and their young captain, not only
by a copious repast of beef and ale, by way of parting feast, but
by such a pecuniary donation to each individual as tended rather
to improve the conviviality than the discipline of their march.
After inspecting the cavalry, Sir Everard again conducted his
nephew to the library, where he produced a letter, carefully
folded, surrounded by a little stripe of flox-silk, according to
ancient form, and sealed with an accurate impression of the
Waverley coat-of-arms. It was addressed, with great formality, 'To
Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Esq., of Bradwardine, at his principal
mansion of Tully-Veolan, in Perthshire, North Britain. These--By
the hands of Captain Edward Waverley, nephew of Sir Everard
Waverley, of Waverley-Honour, Bart.'
The gentleman to whom this enormous greeting was addressed, of
whom we shall have more to say in the sequel, had been in arms for
the exiled family of Stuart in the year 1715, and was made
prisoner at Preston in Lancashire. He was of a very ancient
family, and somewhat embarrassed fortune; a scholar, according to
the scholarship of Scotchmen, that is, his learning was more
diffuse than accurate, and he was rather a reader than a
grammarian. Of his zeal for the classic authors he is said to have
given an uncommon instance. On the road between Preston and
London, he made his escape from his guards; but being afterwards
found loitering near the place where they had lodged the former
night, he was recognised, and again arrested. His companions, and
even his escort, were surprised at his infatuation, and could not
help inquiring, why, being once at liberty, he had not made the
best of his way to a place of safety; to which he replied, that he
had intended to do so, but, in good faith, he had returned to seek
his Titus Livius, which he had forgot in the hurry of his escape.
[Footnote: See Note 3.] The simplicity of this anecdote struck the
gentleman, who, as we before observed, had managed the defence of
some of those unfortunate persons, at the expense of Sir Everard,
and perhaps some others of the party. He was, besides, himself a
special admirer of the old Patavinian, and though probably his own
zeal might not have carried him such extravagant lengths, even to
recover the edition of Sweynheim and Pannartz (supposed to be the
princeps), he did not the less estimate the devotion of the North
Briton, and in consequence exerted himself to so much purpose to
remove and soften evidence, detect legal flaws, et cetera, that he
accomplished the final discharge and deliverance of Cosmo Comyne
Bradwardine from certain very awkward consequences of a plea
before our sovereign lord the king in Westminster.
The Baron of Bradwardine, for he was generally so called in
Scotland (although his intimates, from his place of residence,
used to denominate him Tully-Veolan, or more familiarly, Tully),
no sooner stood rectus in curia than he posted down to pay his
respects and make his acknowledgments at Waverley-Honour. A
congenial passion for field-sports, and a general coincidence in
political opinions, cemented his friendship with Sir Everard,
notwithstanding the difference of their habits and studies in
other particulars; and, having spent several weeks at Waverley-
Honour, the Baron departed with many expressions of regard, warmly
pressing the Baronet to return his visit, and partake of the
diversion of grouse-shooting, upon his moors in Perthshire next
season. Shortly after, Mr. Bradwardine remitted from Scotland a
sum in reimbursement of expenses incurred in the King's High Court
of Westminster, which, although not quite so formidable when
reduced to the English denomination, had, in its original form of
Scotch pounds, shillings, and pence, such a formidable effect upon
the frame of Duncan Macwheeble, the laird's confidential factor,
baron-bailie, and man of resource, that he had a fit of the
cholic, which lasted for five days, occasioned, he said, solely
and utterly by becoming the unhappy instrument of conveying such a
serious sum of money out of his native country into the hands of
the false English. But patriotism, as it is the fairest, so it is
often the most suspicious mask of other feelings; and many who
knew Bailie Macwheeble concluded that his professions of regret
were not altogether disinterested, and that he would have grudged
the moneys paid to the LOONS at Westminster much less had they not
come from Bradwardine estate, a fund which he considered as more
particularly his own. But the Bailie protested he was absolutely
disinterested--
'Woe, woe, for Scotland, not a whit for me!'
The laird was only rejoiced that his worthy friend, Sir Everard
Waverley of Waverley-Honour, was reimbursed of the expenditure
which he had outlaid on account of the house of Bradwardine. It
concerned, he said, the credit of his own family, and of the
kingdom of Scotland at large, that these disbursements should be
repaid forthwith, and, if delayed, it would be a matter of
national reproach. Sir Everard, accustomed to treat much larger
sums with indifference, received the remittance of L294, 13S. 6D.
without being aware that the payment was an international concern,
and, indeed, would probably have forgot the circumstance
altogether, if Bailie Macwheeble had thought of comforting his
cholic by intercepting the subsidy. A yearly intercourse took
place, of a short letter and a hamper or a cask or two, between
Waverley-Honour and Tully-Veolan, the English exports consisting
of mighty cheeses and mightier ale, pheasants, and venison, and
the Scottish returns being vested in grouse, white hares, pickled
salmon, and usquebaugh; all which were meant, sent, and received
as pledges of constant friendship and amity between two important
houses. It followed as a matter of course, that the heir-apparent
of Waverley-Honour could not with propriety visit Scotland without
being furnished with credentials to the Baron of Bradwardine.
When this matter was explained and settled, Mr. Pembroke expressed
his wish to take a private and particular leave of his dear pupil.
The good man's ex hortations to Edward to preserve an unblemished
life and morals, to hold fast the principles of the Christian
religion, and to eschew the profane company of scoffers and
latitudinarians, too much abounding in the army, were not
unmingled with his political prejudices. It had pleased Heaven, he
said, to place Scotland (doubtless for the sins of their ancestors
in 1642) in a more deplorable state of darkness than even this
unhappy kingdom of England. Here, at least, although the
candlestick of the Church of England had been in some degree
removed from its place, it yet afforded a glimmering light; there
was a hierarchy, though schismatical, and fallen from the
principles maintained by those great fathers of the church,
Sancroft and his brethren; there was a liturgy, though woefully
perverted in some of the principal petitions. But in Scotland it
was utter darkness; and, excepting a sorrowful, scattered, and
persecuted remnant, the pulpits were abandoned to Presbyterians,
and, he feared, to sectaries of every description. It should be
his duty to fortify his dear pupil to resist such unhallowed and
pernicious doctrines in church and state as must necessarily be
forced at times upon his unwilling ears.
Here he produced two immense folded packets, which appeared each
to contain a whole ream of closely written manuscript. They had
been the labour of the worthy man's whole life; and never were
labour and zeal more absurdly wasted. He had at one time gone to
London, with the intention of giving them to the world, by the
medium of a bookseller in Little Britain, well known to deal in
such commodities, and to whom he was instructed to address himself
in a particular phrase and with a certain sign, which, it seems,
passed at that time current among the initiated Jacobites. The
moment Mr. Pembroke had uttered the Shibboleth, with the
appropriate gesture, the bibliopolist greeted him, notwithstanding
every disclamation, by the title of Doctor, and conveying him into
his back shop, after inspecting every possible and impossible
place of concealment, he commenced: 'Eh, Doctor!--Well--all under
the rose--snug--I keep no holes here even for a Hanoverian rat to
hide in. And, what--eh! any good news from our friends over the
water?--and how does the worthy King of France?--Or perhaps you
are more lately from Rome? it must be Rome will do it at last--the
church must light its candle at the old lamp.--Eh--what, cautious?
I like you the better; but no fear.' Here Mr. Pembroke with some
difficulty stopt a torrent of interrogations, eked out with signs,
nods, and winks; and, having at length convinced the bookseller
that he did him too much honour in supposing him an emissary of
exiled royalty, he explained his actual business.
The man of books with a much more composed air proceeded to
examine the manuscripts. The title of the first was 'A Dissent
from Dissenters, or the Comprehension confuted; showing the
Impossibility of any Composition between the Church and Puritans,
Presbyterians, 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, letter-press--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 preached my author. I have published for
Drake and Charlwood Lawton, and poor Amhurst [Footnote: See Note
4.]--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
show 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 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.