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 sergeantcies 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 Angus-shire, 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 eyes of the
young soldier. [Footnote: See Note 5.] It may be easily imagined
that the officers, of a regiment commanded by so respectable a
person composed a society more sedate and orderly than a military
mess always exhibits; and that Waverley escaped some temptations
to which he might otherwise have been exposed.
Meanwhile his military education proceeded. Already a good
horseman, he was now initiated into the arts of the manege, which,
when carried to perfection, almost realise the fable of the
Centaur, the guidance of the horse appearing to proceed from the
rider's mere volition, rather than from the use of any external
and apparent signal of motion. He received also instructions in
his field duty; but I must own, that when his first ardour was
past, 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, because accompanied with so
much outward pomp and circumstance, is in its essence a very dry
and abstract task, depending chiefly upon arithmetical
combinations, requiring much attention, and a cool and reasoning
head to bring them into action. Our hero was liable to fits of
absence, in which his blunders excited some mirth, and called down
some reproof. This circumstance impressed him with a painful sense
of inferiority in those qualities which appeared most to deserve
and obtain regard in his new profession. He asked himself in vain,
why his eye could not judge of distance or space so well as those
of his companions; why his head was not always successful in
disentangling the various partial movements necessary to execute a
particular evolution; and why his memory, so alert upon most
occasions, did not correctly retain technical phrases and minute
points of etiquette or field discipline. Waverley was naturally
modest, and therefore did not fall into the egregious mistake of
supposing such minuter rules of military duty beneath his notice,
or conceiting himself to be born a general, because he made an
indifferent subaltern. The truth was, that the vague and
unsatisfactory course of reading which he had pursued, working
upon a temper naturally retired and abstracted, had given him that
wavering and unsettled habit of mind which is most averse to study
and riveted attention. Time, in the mean while, hung heavy on his
hands. The gentry of the neighbourhood were disaffected, and
showed little hospitality to the military guests; and the people
of the town, chiefly engaged in mercantile pursuits, were not such
as Waverley chose to associate with. The arrival of summer, and a
curiosity to know something more of Scotland than he could see in
a ride from his quarters, determined him to request leave of
absence for a few weeks. He resolved first to visit his uncle's
ancient friend and correspondent, with the purpose of extending or
shortening the time of his residence according to circumstances.
He travelled of course on horse-back, and with a single
attendant, and passed his first night at a miserable inn, where
the landlady had neither shoes nor stockings, and the landlord,
who called himself a gentleman, was disposed to be rude to his
guest, because he had not bespoke the pleasure of his society to
supper. [Footnote: See Note 6.] The next day, traversing an open
and uninclosed country, Edward gradually approached the Highlands
of Perthshire, which at first had appeared a blue outline in the
horizon, but now swelled into huge gigantic masses, which frowned
defiance over the more level country that lay beneath them. Near
the bottom of this stupendous barrier, but still in the Lowland
country, dwelt Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine of Bradwardine; and, if
grey-haired eld can be in aught believed, there had dwelt his
ancestors, with all their heritage, since the days of the gracious
King Duncan.