WAVERLEY
One morning during our stay at Melrose, we drove by motor westward
along the Tweed, passing Ashestiel, situated high up on the opposite
bank, but catching only a glimpse of it through the trees. Here
'Waverley' was begun in 1805 and laid aside because of the criticism of
a close friend. Here, too, in 1810, it was resumed and again put aside
because of the faint praise of James Ballantyne. This time the
manuscript was lost and completely forgotten. It came to light in 1813
when Scott was searching in an old cabinet for some fishing-tackle. He
was seized with a desire to finish it, and the work was done so fast
that the last two of the original three volumes were written in three
weeks. It was published on the 7th of July, 1814.
Farther up the stream we could see in the distance on a high elevation
the ruins of Elibank, where Scott's ancestor, young Wat of Harden, came
so near paying the penalty for 'lifting' a few head of his neighbour's
cattle. Scott always said that the blood of the old cattle-drivers of
Teviotdale still stirred in his veins, and in this way he accounted for
his 'propensity for the dubious characters of borderers, buccaneers,
Highland robbers, and all others of a Robin Hood description.'
Our journey on this particular morning was for the purpose of visiting
an old baronial mansion which Scott no doubt had very much in his mind
during the writing {107} of 'Waverley.' This was Traquair House,
situated in the village of that name, about two miles south of
Innerleithen. It presents some striking resemblances to the
description of Tully Veolan. There is a long and wide avenue, having
an upper and a lower gate. 'This avenue was straight and of moderate
length, running between a double row of very ancient horse-chestnuts,
planted alternately with sycamores, which rose to such huge height, and
flourished so luxuriantly, that their boughs completely overarched the
broad road beneath.' Two narrow drives, one on each side of the broad
avenue, converge immediately in front of the inner gate. Between these
is a broad space 'clothed with grass of a deep and rich verdure.' The
outer entrance to the avenue is barred by a pair of iron gates, hung
between two massive pillars of stone, on each of which is a curious
beast, standing on his hind legs, his fore legs resting on a sort of
scroll-work support. The animals face each other like a couple of
rival legislators holding a joint debate from behind tall
reading-desks. Scott says somewhat dubiously that these 'two large
weather-beaten mutilated masses of upright stone ... if the tradition
of the hamlet could be trusted, had once represented, or at least been
designed to represent, two rampant Bears, the supporters of the family
of Bradwardine.' If any of the village people, who stood around as I
arranged my camera, their wide-stretched eyes and open mouths betraying
their curiosity, had told me that these 'bears' were 'rampant
hippopotami,' I should have rewarded them with my usual credulous nod
and 'thank you.' There can be little doubt that Scott took the idea of
the Bears of Bradwardine from this gate, although he {108} multiplied
the two and scattered them all over the place.
Like Tully Veolan, the house seems to consist of high, narrow, and
steep-roofed buildings, with numberless windows, all very small, while
the roofs have little turrets, 'resembling pepper-boxes.' It was built
'at a period when castles were no longer necessary and when the
Scottish architects had not yet acquired the art of designing a
domestic residence.'
Scott no doubt was a frequent visitor here. In one of his letters he
refers to the owner in connection with a plan to plant some 'aquatic
trees,--willows, alders, poplars, and so forth,'--around a little pond
in Abbotsford and to have a 'preserve of wild ducks' and other
water-fowl. He says, 'I am to get some eggs from Lord Traquair, of a
curious species of half-reclaimed wild ducks, which abound near his
solitary old château and nowhere else in Scotland that I know of.' This
denotes a somewhat intimate acquaintance with the Earl of Traquair.
The house, indeed, was so near Ashestiel that Scott could hardly fail
to visit so interesting a place many times. It is doubtful if there is
another inhabited house in Scotland more ancient than Traquair. The
present owner takes care to preserve its appearance of antiquity. No
repairs or alterations are made except such as are absolutely
necessary, and then the work is done in such a way as to conceal its
'newness.' Among the early owners of the estate was James, Lord
Douglas, the friend of Bruce, who attempted to carry his chief's heart
to the Holy Land. The founder of the family of Traquair was James
Stuart, and his descendants have held the estate for nearly four
centuries.
{109}
The great gate with the grotesque bears has been closed for more than a
century. One tradition is that the defeat of the young Prince Charles
at the battle of Culloden in 1746 was the direct cause of its final
closing. The Prince visited the Earl of that day (Charles, the fifth
Earl of Traquair) to persuade him to lend his active support to the
Jacobite cause. The Earl felt compelled to decline, but in escorting
his visitor from the park, made a vow that the gate should never be
opened again until a Stuart was on the throne. The defeat of the
Prince was a severe disappointment to the Traquair family and the vow
of the Earl has been kept to this day, even though the earldom is now
extinct.
It is not correct, however, in spite of the striking resemblances, to
speak of Traquair House as the 'original' of Tully Veolan. Scott
himself says in his note in the edition of 1829, 'There is no
particular mansion described under the name of Tully Veolan; but the
peculiarities of description occur in various old Scottish seats.'
Among these were the house of Sir George Warrender upon Bruntsfield
Links; the old house of Ravelston, owned by Sir Alexander Keith, the
author's friend and kinsman, from which he took some hints for the
garden; and the house of Dean, near Edinburgh. He adds,'The author
has, however, been informed that the house of Grandtully resembles that
of the Baron of Bradwardine still more than any of the above.'
Acting upon this hint, when we were making the city of Perth our
centre, we took a long journey by motor with Grandtully Castle as the
objective point. I doubt if there is a more beautiful drive in all
Scotland. We followed the left bank of the river Tay through a fertile
{110} valley of surpassing loveliness. In the whole journey of nearly
one hundred miles it seemed as though there was never a blot on the
landscape. No neglected farms, no rough patches of naked earth, no
tumble-down fences, no unsightly railroad excavations nor bare
embankments, no swamps filled with fallen timber, no hideous
bill-boards, none of the hundreds of unsightly objects which mar the
scenery of so many country drives. Everything seemed well kept. The
big estates were filled with beautiful trees and shrubs, many of them
in full bloom, and the humbler places did equally well, though on a
smaller scale. I remember passing a hedge of beeches, half a mile
long, the trees growing ninety feet high and so close together as to
make a wall impenetrable to the sunlight. I was told that this hedge
was trimmed once in three years at an expense of fifteen hundred
dollars each time. This is only one item in the care of a large
estate. We passed the park and palace of Scone, where the coronation
stone was kept before its removal to Westminster Abbey, and from which
it received its name. Farther to the north we stopped a few minutes at
Campsie Linn, which I shall mention later in connection with 'The Fair
Maid of Perth.' A little beyond Cargill our course turned sharply to
the West, although the main road continues to the north until it
reaches Blairgowrie, some two or three miles beyond which is another
'original' of Tully Veolan, the house of Craighall. Unfortunately lack
of time did not permit a visit to this place, but I must digress long
enough to explain its significance. It was the seat of the Rattray
family, who were related to William Clerk, one of Scott's most intimate
companions of the early days {111} spent among the law courts of
Edinburgh. During one of the Highland excursions the friends stopped
at Craighall. When 'Waverley' came out, twenty-one years later, Mr.
Clerk was so much struck with the resemblance of Tully Veolan to the
old mansion of the Rattrays that he immediately said, 'This is
Scott's.' The reason for the conviction was probably not so much the
similarity of the real house to the fictitious one as the recollection
of a little incident of the early excursion. Clerk, seeing the smoke
of a little hamlet before them, when they were tired and heated from
their journey, is said to have exclaimed, 'How agreeable if we should
here fall in with one of those signposts where a red lion predominates
over a punch-bowl!' In spite of the lapse of so many years, Clerk
recognized his own expression (with which he knew Scott had been
particularly amused) in that part of the description of Tully Veolan
where 'a huge bear, carved in stone, predominated over a large stone
basin.'
[Illustration: GRANDTULLY CASTLE]
Following the course of the beautiful river, upstream, we came at
length, far up in the Perthshire hills, to the Castle of Grandtully.
It is a large and stately mansion, situated in one of those beautiful
parks with which the region abounds. It has the pepper-box turrets and
small windows of Tully Veolan. It is now, as in Scott's time, the home
of a family of Stewarts, one of whom, Sir George, supported the cause
of 'the Young Chevalier' in 1745. The gardener, who, in the absence of
the family, did the honours of the place, told me that Scott had
visited the house many years after 'Waverley' appeared and had said
then that it was more nearly like what he had described than any other
castle, and that {112} 'the only mistake he had made was in putting
bears on the gateway instead of bees.' There is a fine wrought-iron
gate at Grandtully with the figures of two bees, forming a part of the
coat of arms of the Stewart family. An avenue of limes formerly led to
this gate, but it is no longer used and only two of the trees remain.
Scott was always cautious about admitting any connection of his
writings with definite 'originals,' but was ever ready to humour those
who fancied they saw certain resemblances. It is curious that he does
not mention either Traquair House or Craighall in his note, though both
were identified as 'originals' during his lifetime. No doubt,
consciously or unconsciously, he wove into his novel partial
descriptions of both, as well as of Grandtully, while the houses which
he particularly mentions also furnished some of the details.
The historical value of 'Waverley' lies in its picture of the rising of
the Highland clans in favour of Charles Edward Stuart, called the
'Young Pretender' by the supporters of the reigning king, but
affectionately known among his Scottish adherents as 'Bonnie Prince
Charlie.' The ambitious young man, the grandson of James II, left
France in the summer of 1745 in a small vessel, with only seven
friends, and landed on one of the Hebridean Islands. Before the end of
August he had raised his standard in the valley of Glenfinnan and found
himself at the head of an army of fifteen hundred men, chiefly of the
clans of MacDonald and Cameron. He soon made a triumphant march to
Edinburgh, where he established himself in the Palace of Holyrood,
which the Stuart family had already made famous. On Tuesday, the 17th
of September, he caused the proclamation {113} of his father, 'the Old
Pretender,' as King James VIII, to be read by the heralds at the old
Market Cross in Parliament Square. The people crowded around the
'Young Chevalier,' eager to kiss his hand or even to touch for a single
instant the Scottish tartan which he wore. So great was the crowd that
he was compelled to call for his horse, for otherwise he could make no
progress. It is said that his noble appearance so won the hearts of
all who beheld him that before he reached the palace the polish of his
boots was dimmed by the kisses of the multitude.
That night the old palace reawakened to something of its former
brilliancy, on the occasion of a great ball, given by the Prince. The
old picture gallery, with its array of queer portraits of
long-forgotten Scottish kings, was a scene of glittering splendour.
The long-deserted halls, now brilliant with a thousand lights, were
crowded with an assembly of men of education and fortune, accompanied
by their ladies in gowns of such elegance as the confusion of the times
might permit. Mingling with these representations of the Jacobean
gentry of Edinburgh were the handsomely arrayed officers of the clans,
the Highland gentlemen of importance, with their many coloured plaids
and sashes, their broadswords glittering with heavy silver plate and
inlaid work, and all the other elegant appurtenances for which the
picturesque Highland costume offered abundant scope. In the chapter on
the Ball, Scott merely introduced into an historic assemblage two
handsome women, Flora MacIvor and Rose Bradwardine, and two men, Fergus
MacIvor and Edward Waverley.
The palace is to-day much the same as it was in the {114} time of the
Prince, though the adjoining abbey is now roofless and very much more
of a ruin. A walk through the Canongate, from Holyrood to the Market
Cross, would give one a very fair idea of the street through which
Fergus MacIvor and Waverley passed to the lodgings of the former in the
house of the buxom Widow Flockhart, where Waverley received his new
Highland costume from the hands of James of the Needle. At the other
end of the town, beneath the castle, is St. Cuthbert's Church, then
called the West Kirk, where the honest Presbyterian clergyman,
MacVicar, preached every Sunday and prayed for the House of Hanover in
spite of the fact that many of the Jacobites were present. In one of
those petitions he referred to the fact that 'a young man has recently
come among us seeking an earthly crown' and prayed that he might
speedily be granted a heavenly one!
Much of the material for 'Waverley' was stored up in the retentive
memory of the novelist when he was a mere boy. At six years of age he
was taken for a visit to Prestonpans. If the old veteran of the German
wars, Dalgetty, whom he met here and who found a ready listener in the
bright-eyed little boy, was able to tell the story of the battle in
anything like a graphic manner, it must have made a profound impression
upon the mind of a lad who had already learned to fight the battles of
Scotland with miniature armies of pebbles and shells. On one side was
an army of Highlanders, the chief men of each clan proudly dressed in
their distinctive tartans. They were tall, vigorous, hardy men, all
proud of their ancestry, each capable of deeds of individual daring and
courage, but all loyal to their chiefs and to their temporary leader,
{115} Prince Charles Edward Stuart. They were not only well dressed
but well armed, each man having a broadsword, target, dirk, and fusee,
or flintlock gun, and perhaps a steel pistol. These were the gentlemen
of the Highlands. Contrasting strangely with them and forming the
larger part of the army was the rear guard, a motley crowd, bearing
every appearance of extreme poverty. They were rough, uncouth,
half-naked men of savage aspect, armed with whatever weapon could be
most easily obtained. Some had pole-axes; some carried scythes,
securely fastened to the ends of poles; a few had old guns or swords;
while many had only dirks and bludgeons. But all had the fighting
spirit and a keen desire for plunder. To complete this curious but
formidable array, there was an old iron cannon, dragged along by a
string of Highland ponies. This constituted the entire artillery of
the army and it could only be used for firing signals, yet the leaders
allowed it to be retained because of the belief on the part of the men
in the ranks that it would in some miraculous way contribute to their
expected victory.
On the English side a complete army of infantry, cavalry, and
artillery, well equipped and disciplined, confronted the Highland
hordes. As they wheeled into line the fixed bayonets of the infantry
glistened in the sun like 'successive hedges of steel.' These, with
the trains of artillery and troop after troop of well-equipped
dragoons, presented a formidable appearance. But they struck no terror
into the hearts of the wild 'petticoat-men.' With terrific yells the
forces of the rebellious Scotchmen rushed into battle. Discipline and
order gave way before the impact of savage zeal, and panic {116} seized
the English army. The result was what the child Scott always contrived
to accomplish in his mimic battles of pebbles,--the complete victory of
the Scots and the utter rout of their enemy. There is now little to be
seen on the battle-field. The old thorn tree, which was once the
central landmark, has almost disappeared. The fertile fields, once
trampled by hostile armies, have given way to railroad tracks and
unsightly collieries. Colonel Gardiner's house, however, where that
hero died after receiving a mortal wound upon the battle-field, still
remains standing, and in front, at the end of a fine avenue of trees,
is a plain but dignified monument to his memory.
The principal incident of the battle, as told in 'Waverley,' is based
upon a true story, which Scott heard from Alexander Stewart of
Invernahyle, on one of his early visits to the Highlands. When the
Highlanders in 1745 attacked the army of Sir John Cope at Prestonpans,
Stewart was one of the leaders in charge. Noticing an officer of the
English army standing alone, sword in hand, too proud to fly with the
others, he called on him to surrender. The officer answered by a
thrust of his sword which Stewart received in his target, breaking the
blade. A huge Highlander rushed up to the defenceless man with lifted
battle-axe, and in another moment would have killed his victim but for
the chivalrous interference of Stewart, who protected him from injury,
took care of his personal property, and finally secured his release on
parole. This officer was a Scotch gentleman, serving in the King's
army, whose name was Colonel Whitefoord. Stewart later paid him a
visit at his home in Ayrshire. After the battle of Culloden had put an
end to the hopes of Prince Charles and his loyal Scottish {117}
friends, when those who had supported the rebellion were in grave
danger of death and the confiscation of their property, Colonel
Whitefoord took occasion to repay the debt to Mr. Stewart. He called
in person on the Duke of Cumberland to plead for his friend's life, or
at least for the protection of his family and property. On receiving a
positive refusal, he took his commission from his pocket, and laying it
on the table before the Duke, with great emotion begged leave to retire
from the service of a king who did not know how to be merciful to a
vanquished enemy. The Duke was deeply affected and granted the desired
protection. It was none too soon, for the troops were even then
beginning to plunder the country in the immediate vicinity of
Invernahyle's home. That unfortunate gentleman had lain for many days
concealed in a cave, his food being brought by one of his daughters, a
child so young that she was not suspected by the soldiers.
The rescue of Colonel Talbot by Waverley and the subsequent friendly
assistance of that officer, upon which so much of the plot of the novel
depends, was founded upon this incident, which the old soldier related
to Walter Scott, a boy of fifteen. It will be remembered that Scott's
first Highland visit took place in 1786, so that Stewart, who was 'out'
in the rebellion of 1715, must have been a very old man when he told
the story. The lad, who no doubt listened eagerly, absorbing every
detail into his extraordinary memory, did not use the tale until nearly
a quarter of a century later.
An example of Scott's remarkable way of remembering and reproducing the
little details of the stories he heard is the use he made of Stewart's
experience in {118} hiding in a cave. The Baron of Bradwardine is
supposed to have concealed himself in similar manner and to have had
important assistance from 'Davie Gellatley,' the Baron's 'natural' or
fool, who was 'no sae silly as folk tak him for.' Colonel Stewart, a
grandson of Stewart of Invernahyle, in his book on the Highlands,
points out that while some gentlemen 'who had been out' in the
rebellion were obliged to conceal themselves in the woods near his
grandfather's house, they were supplied with food and other necessaries
by one of these poor, half-witted creatures, who showed an
extraordinary sagacity as well as fidelity in protecting the friends of
his patron.
'Davie Gellatley' was a type common enough, especially in the country
districts of Scotland, a century ago. These rustic fools were usually
treated with kindness, the good people feeling a sense of duty to help
those to whom Providence had denied their full share of mental power.
They frequently possessed a certain sagacity or cunning, combined with
sly humour, which enabled them at times to make quick and unexpected
answers, causing much amusement and wonder. Such a man was Daft Jock
Gray, who lived on a farm in Ettrick and was well known to all the
Border people. He was a frequent visitor at Ashestiel, where he
entertained the family with his wild snatches of songs and ballads and
his eccentric performances. Jock was once travelling with a man of his
own type, Jamie Renwick. When night came, they lodged in a convenient
barn. Jock could not sleep and got up and walked about singing his
wild and incoherent songs. This so irritated Jamie that he shouted,
'Come to your bed, ye skirlin' deevil! I canna get a wink o' sleep for
ye; I daur say the folk will think us daft! Od, if ye {119} dinna come
and lie down this instant, I'll rise and _bring ye to your senses_ wi'
my rung!' 'Faith,' says Jock, 'if ye do that, it will be mair than ony
ither body has ever been able to do.'[1]
The visit of Waverley to the cave of Donald Bean Lean was based upon
another incident, told to Scott on a later excursion to the Highlands
in 1793, when he stopped for a time at Tullibody, the residence of Mr.
Abercrombie, the grandfather of his intimate friend and companion,
George Abercrombie. The old gentleman related how he had been
compelled to make a visit to the wild retreats of Rob Roy, where he was
entertained with great courtesy by that Highland chief in a cave very
much like that described in Waverley. He was treated to a dinner of
'collops' or steaks, cut from his own cattle, which he recognized
hanging by the heels in the cavern. He found it necessary to arrange
for the payment of blackmail to the cateran, which insured the
protection of his herds against not only Rob Roy himself, but all other
freebooters.
We found just such a cave on the east shore of Loch Lomond in the heart
of the Rob Roy country. It is reached by rowing from Inversnaid about
a mile up the lake, and clambering over some rough rocks to the
opening. It is known as Rob Roy's Cave and gave an excellent idea of
the place where Waverley was entertained by Donald Bean Lean and the
good-natured Highland girl, his daughter, who thought nothing of
walking four miles to 'borrow' enough eggs for his breakfast. From the
rocks we enjoyed a superb view of Loch Lomond, {120} strongly
suggesting the Highland loch of 'Waverley,' 'surrounded by heathy and
savage mountains, on the crests of which the morning mist was still
sleeping.' I was fortunate enough to get a good photograph of these
mists as they rose above the summit of Ben Vorlich on the opposite side
of the lake.
On this same excursion to the Highlands, Scott learned from another old
gentleman something of the history of Doune Castle, the ruins of which
now stand on the banks of the Ardoch, a tributary of the Tieth, some
ten miles or more north of Stirling. We found the most beautiful view
from the bridge on the main road, crossing the Tieth. The ruins show
that the castle was once of great extent. It was built by Murdoch,
Duke of Albany, while governor of Scotland in the exile of James I.
When James returned in 1423, he took vengeance upon the unfaithful
guardian of his kingdom and beheaded Murdoch on the Heading Hill of
Stirling Castle. The Scottish monarchs, or several of them, utilized
the castle as a dower-house for their queen consorts. James II in 1451
bestowed it upon his queen, Mary of Gueldres; James III gave it to his
consort, Margaret of Denmark, in 1471; and James IV presented it to
Queen Margaret in 1503, making it one of his royal residences. In the
year 1745 it came into the possession of Charles Edward, the Young
Pretender, who used it as a prison. Scott is quite consistent with the
facts of history, therefore, when he causes Waverley to be detained
there on his way to Holyrood Palace.
[Illustration: DOUNE CASTLE FROM THE TEITH]
One other incident of this same Highland excursion must be mentioned.
It was then that Scott first visited the home of his friend, Buchanan,
the Laird of Cambusmore. {121} Francis Buchanan, the great uncle of
the young laird, was carried away from this house to Carlisle, where he
was hanged on a charge of treason, this estate and another at Strathyre
being confiscated. The property was later restored to the family, by
whom it is still owned. The account of the execution of Fergus MacIvor
at Carlisle Castle was based upon this story, as told to Scott on the
porch of Cambusmore by his friend Buchanan.
Another spot in the Highlands of which Scott was very fond is the
little waterfall of Lediard. We found the place because we were
looking for it, but the casual tourist would not be likely to see it.
It is reached from the road leading along the north shore of Loch Ard,
west of Aberfoyle and south of the Trossachs. I found it necessary to
walk through a lane to a near-by farmhouse and then go up a slight
incline by a narrow winding path along a little brook until I came to a
thick wood. There the rush of the waters could be plainly heard, and
guided by the sound, I was able after some search to find a rock where
I could place my camera for a view of the little cascade. It is not
remarkable either for the height of the fall or for the volume of
water, but its charm comes from the dense foliage through which the
sunlight dances and sparkles, from the rough rocks clothed in ferns and
moss and wild flowers, except where the fantastic play of the streamlet
keeps them bare, and from the deep pool at the bottom filled to the
brim with pure, cold water.
This exquisite scene was chosen by Scott for one of his most romantic
pictures--the meeting of Waverley and Flora MacIvor, when the graceful
and beautiful daughter of the Highlands, blending her voice with the
music of the waterfall and the accompaniment of the harp, {122} sang
the Celtic verses so full of devotion to her native land and the cause
of the Prince, calling to the clans:--
For honour, for freedom, for vengeance awake!
It is interesting to compare the character of Flora MacIvor and her
devotion to the fortunes of the exiled Stuarts with that of the famous
Flora MacDonald. In the circumstances of their environment there is no
similarity between the two heroines, one of fiction and the other of
real life. Flora MacDonald was born in the Island of South Uist and
brought in infancy to the neighbouring island of Skye. Except for a
brief visit to Argyleshire, she never left those islands until after
the stirring events which made her famous. She did not meet the Prince
until she engaged in her efforts to rescue him, after the battle of
Culloden.
In personal characteristics there is a very striking resemblance.
Flora MacDonald, though reared in the solitude of a remote island,
acquired an excellent education, to which she added the natural love of
poetry and romance peculiar to her people. 'There was nothing
unfeminine, either in her form or in her manners, to detract from the
charm of her great natural vivacity, or give a tone of hardness to her
strong good sense, calm judgment, and power of decision. Her voice was
sweet and low; the harsher accents of the Scottish tongue were not to
be detected in her discourse.'[2] She always manifested a perfect
modesty and propriety of behaviour coupled with a noble simplicity of
character which led her to regard with surprise the many tributes of
praise which her conduct merited. These were the characteristics {123}
with which Scott invested his heroine. Flora MacDonald's family
belonged to the clan of MacDonald of Clanronald, and one of Scott's
most valued friends, Colonel Ronaldson MacDonnel of Glengarry,[3] was a
descendant of the same clan. He was an eccentric character who tried
to play the chieftain and thought, felt, and acted about as he might
have done a hundred years earlier, but could not do in his own time
without provoking censure and ridicule. He even attempted to have
himself recognized as the chief of the whole clan of Clanronald, though
his own ancestors had been unable to establish the right. Scott
regarded him as a treasure, 'full of information as to the history of
his own clan, and the manners and customs of the Highlanders in
general.' In his effort to make Fergus MacIvor, Vich Ian Vohr, a
typical leader of one of the Highland clans, Scott no doubt received
considerable help from Glengarry, whose castle of Invergarry was on
Loch Oich, in Inverness, in the very heart of the country of the
rebellious chiefs and only a few miles distant from Culloden, the scene
of their final defeat.
Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Esq., the pompous, tiresome, but laughable
bore, with his endless quotations in Latin, the honourable soldier, the
excellent father and the lovable friend, is one of Scott's most
interesting characters. Though an original creation, there was more
than one man of his time who might have sat for the portrait of the
brave, honourable, kind-hearted gentleman who spoke Latin as fluently
as his native Scotch dialect and who loved his 'Livy' so much that
{124} after escaping from some soldiers who had arrested him, he risked
recapture in order to return and secure the beloved volume which he had
forgotten in his haste. The absurd old Baron is represented as
insisting upon his right and duty, under a charter of Robert Bruce, by
which his lands were held, to pull off the boots of the King. Two
difficulties present themselves:--first that Prince Charles is not the
King, and second that he does not wear boots. But it is decided that
Charles represents the King, and that a service performed to him is
done for the King; also that brogues are a legitimate substitute for
boots. So with the good-natured consent of the Prince, the ridiculous
ceremony takes place with due solemnity. This incident, fantastic as
it seems, is only an example of the way in which certain Scottish
tenures were held. Mrs. Hughes, of Uffington, says that Scott told her
of a similar tenure under which the Howistons of Braehead held their
lands, namely, by presenting a basin and ewer with water and a towel
for the King to wash whenever he came to Holyrood.
The Laird of Balmawhapple was a purely fictitious character, but the
method of his death at Prestonpans was one of the true stories told to
Scott as a child when he first visited the battle-field. A brave and
honourable gentleman, one of the few cavalrymen who followed Prince
Charles, was pursuing some fugitive dragoons. Suddenly discovering
that they were followed only by one man and his two servants, the
soldiers turned and cut down the courageous Highlander.
[Illustration: ULLSWATER (WAVERLEY'S RETREAT AFTER THE DEFEAT OF THE
CHEVALIER)]
As in many of Scott's novels, the hero is less attractive than some of
the subordinate characters. The author himself characterized Edward
Waverley, somewhat too {125} severely, as a 'sneaking piece of
imbecility' and added, 'if he had married Flora, she would have set him
up upon the chimneypiece, as Count Borowlaski's wife used to do with
him.' Yet in the third chapter, where the subject is Waverley's
education, he is really giving a bit of autobiography. He refers to
Edward's power of imagination and love of literature and mentions the
pleasure which his uncle's large library afforded him. 'He had read
and stored, in a memory of uncommon tenacity, much curious though
ill-arranged and miscellaneous information. In English literature he
was master of Shakespeare and Milton, of our earlier dramatic authors,
of many picturesque and interesting passages from our old historical
chronicles, and was particularly well acquainted with Spenser, Drayton,
and other poets, who have exercised themselves on romantic fiction.'
'Waverley' will always be remembered for its graphic picture of the
Scottish Highlands in the period just before they ceased to have a
distinctive individual existence, and for the portrait of the Young
Pretender, who in 'the affair of 1745' achieved such a remarkable hold
upon the affections of the Scottish people. Scott pictures the young
Prince in the most brilliant period of his career, and if he does so in
colours more attractive than his character deserves, it must be
remembered that these were the traits which won the love of his
followers and by which alone that affection can be explained. The
excesses of later years had not yet marred the fine promise of youth,
which, under happier circumstances, might have developed into a higher
type of manhood.
[1] From _Illustrations of the Author of Waverley_, by Robert Chambers.
[2] From a Memoir, by Mrs. Thomson, 1846.
[3] It was to this good friend that Scott was indebted for the gift of
his famous staghound Maida.
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