A SKIRMISH
Theeader need hardly be reminded that, after a council of war
held at Derby on the 5th of December, the Highlanders relinquished
their desperate attempt to penetrate farther into England, and,
greatly to the dissatisfaction of their young and daring leader,
positively determined to return northward. They commenced their
retreat accordingly, and, by the extreme celerity of their
movements, outstripped the motions of the Duke of Cumberland, who
now pursued them with a very large body of cavalry.
This retreat was a virtual resignation of their towering hopes.
None had been so sanguine as Fergus MacIvor; none, consequently,
was so cruelly mortified at the change of measures. He argued, or
rather remonstrated, with the utmost vehemence at the council of
war; and, when his opinion was rejected, shed tears of grief and
indignation. From that moment his whole manner was so much altered
that he could scarcely have been recognised for the same soaring
and ardent spirit, for whom the whole earth seemed too narrow but
a week before. The retreat had continued for several days, when
Edward, to his surprise, early on the 12th of December, received a
visit from the Chieftain in his quarters, in a hamlet about half-
way between Shap and Penrith.
Having had no intercourse with the Chieftain since their rupture,
Edward waited with some anxiety an explanation of this unexpected
visit; nor could he help being surprised, and somewhat shocked,
with the change in his appearance. His eye had lost much of its
fire; his cheek was hollow, his voice was languid, even his gait
seemed less firm and elastic than it was wont; and his dress, to
which he used to be particularly attentive, was now carelessly
flung about him. He invited Edward to walk out with him by the
little river in the vicinity; and smiled in a melancholy manner
when he observed him take down and buckle on his sword.
As soon as they were in a wild sequestered path by the side of the
stream, the Chief broke out--'Our fine adventure is now totally
ruined, Waverley, and I wish to know what you intend to do;--nay,
never stare at me, man. I tell you I received a packet from my
sister yesterday, and, had I got the information it contains
sooner, it would have prevented a quarrel which I am always vexed
when I think of. In a letter written after our dispute, I
acquainted her with the cause of it; and she now replies to me
that she never had, nor could have, any purpose of giving you
encouragement; so that it seems I have acted like a madman. Poor
Flora! she writes in high spirits; what a change will the news of
this unhappy retreat make in her state of mind!'
Waverley, who was really much affected by the deep tone of
melancholy with which Fergus spoke, affectionately entreated him
to banish from his remembrance any unkindness which had arisen
between them, and they once more shook hands, but now with sincere
cordiality. Fergus again inquired of Waverley what he intended to
do. 'Had you not better leave this luckless army, and get down
before us into Scotland, and embark for the Continent from some of
the eastern ports that are still in our possession? When you are
out of the kingdom, your friends will easily negotiate your
pardon; and, to tell you the truth, I wish you would carry Rose
Bradwardine with you as your wife, and take Flora also under your
joint protection.'--Edward looked surprised.--'She loves you, and
I believe you love her, though, perhaps, you have not found it
out, for you are not celebrated for knowing your own mind very
pointedly.' He said this with a sort of smile.
'How,' answered Edward, 'can you advise me to desert the
expedition in which we are all embarked?'
'Embarked?' said Fergus; 'the vessel is going to pieces, and it is
full time for all who can to get into the long-boat and leave
her.'
'Why, what will other gentlemen do?' answered Waverley, 'and why
did the Highland Chiefs consent to this retreat if it is so
ruinous?'
'O,' replied Mac-Ivor, 'they think that, as on former occasions,
the heading, hanging, and forfeiting will chiefly fall to the lot
of the Lowland gentry; that they will be left secure in their
poverty and their fastnesses, there, according to their proverb,
"to listen to the wind upon the hill till the waters abate." But
they will be disappointed; they have been too often troublesome to
be so repeatedly passed over, and this time John Bull has been too
heartily frightened to recover his good-humour for some time. The
Hanoverian ministers always deserved to be hanged for rascals; but
now, if they get the power in their hands,--as, sooner or later,
they must, since there is neither rising in England nor assistance
from France,--they will deserve the gallows as fools if they leave
a single clan in the Highlands in a situation to be again
troublesome to government. Ay, they will make root-and-branch-
work, I warrant them.'
'And while you recommend flight to me,' said Edward,--'a counsel
which I would rather die than embrace,--what are your own views?'
'O,' answered Fergus, with a melancholy air, 'my fate is settled.
Dead or captive I must be before tomorrow.'
'What do you mean by that, my friend?' said Edward. 'The enemy is
still a day's march in our rear, and if he comes up, we are still
strong enough to keep him in check. Remember Gladsmuir.'
'What I tell you is true notwithstanding, so far as I am
individually concerned.'
'Upon what authority can you found so melancholy a prediction?'
asked Waverley.
'On one which never failed a person of my house. I have seen,' he
said, lowering his voice, 'I have seen the Bodach Glas.'
'Bodach Glas?'
'Yes; have you been so long at Glennaquoich, and never heard of
the Grey Spectre? though indeed there is a certain reluctance
among us to mention him.'
'No, never.'
'Ah! it would have been a tale for poor Flora to have told you.
Or, if that hill were Benmore, and that long blue lake, which you
see just winding towards yon mountainous country, were Loch Tay,
or my own Loch an Ri, the tale would be better suited with
scenery. However, let us sit down on this knoll; even Saddleback
and Ulswater will suit what I have to say better than the English
hedgerows, enclosures, and farmhouses. You must know, then, that
when my ancestor, Ian nan Chaistel, wasted Northumberland, there
was associated with him in the expedition a sort of Southland
Chief, or captain of a band of Lowlanders, called Halbert Hall. In
their return through the Cheviots they quarrelled about the
division of the great booty they had acquired, and came from words
to blows. The Lowlanders were cut off to a man, and their chief
fell the last, covered with wounds by the sword of my ancestor.
Since that time his spirit has crossed the Vich Ian Vohr of the
day when any great disaster was impending, but especially before
approaching death. My father saw him twice, once before he was
made prisoner at Sheriff-Muir, another time on the morning of the
day on which he died.'
'How can you, my dear Fergus, tell such nonsense with a grave
face?'
' I do not ask you to believe it; but I tell you the truth,
ascertained by three hundred years' experience at least, and last
night by my own eyes.'
'The particulars, for heaven's sake!' said Waverley, with
eagerness.
'I will, on condition you will not attempt a jest on the subject.
Since this unhappy retreat commenced I have scarce ever been able
to sleep for thinking of my clan, and of this poor Prince, whom
they are leading back like a dog in a string, whether he will or
no, and of the downfall of my family. Last night I felt so
feverish that I left my quarters and walked out, in hopes the keen
frosty air would brace my nerves--I cannot tell how much I dislike
going on, for I know you will hardly believe me. However--I
crossed a small footbridge, and kept walking backwards and
forwards, when I observed with surprise by the clear moonlight a
tall figure in a grey plaid, such as shepherds wear in the south
of Scotland, which, move at what pace I would, kept regularly
about four yards before me.'
'You saw a Cumberland peasant in his ordinary dress, probably.'
'No; I thought so at first, and was astonished at the man's
audacity in daring to dog me. I called to him, but received no
answer. I felt an anxious throbbing at my heart, and to ascertain
what I dreaded, I stood still and turned myself on the same spot
successively to the four points of the compass. By Heaven, Edward,
turn where I would, the figure was instantly before my eyes, at
precisely the same distance! I was then convinced it was the
Bodach Glas. My hair bristled and my knees shook. I manned myself,
however, and determined to return to my quarters. My ghastly
visitant glided before me (for I cannot say he walked) until he
reached the footbridge; there he stopped and turned full round. I
must either wade the river or pass him as close as I am to you. A
desperate courage, founded on the belief that my death was near,
made me resolve to make my way in despite of him. I made the sign
of the cross, drew my sword, and uttered, "In the name of God,
Evil Spirit, give place!" "Vich Ian Vohr," it said, in a voice
that made my very blood curdle, "beware of to-morrow!" It seemed
at that moment not half a yard from my sword's point; but the
words were no sooner spoken than it was gone, and nothing appeared
further to obstruct my passage. I got home and threw myself on my
bed, where I spent a few hours heavily enough; and this morning,
as no enemy was reported to be near us, I took my horse and rode
forward to make up matters with you. I would not willingly fall
until I am in charity with a wronged friend.'
Edward had little doubt that this phantom was the operation of an
exhausted frame and depressed spirits, working on the belief
common to all Highlanders in such superstitions. He did not the
less pity Fergus, for whom, in his present distress, he felt all
his former regard revive. With the view of diverting his mind from
these gloomy images, he offered, with the Baron's permission,
which he knew he could readily obtain, to remain in his quarters
till Fergus's corps should come up, and then to march with them as
usual. The Chief seemed much pleased, yet hesitated to accept the
offer.
'We are, you know, in the rear, the post of danger in a retreat.'
'And therefore the post of honour.'
'Well,' replied the Chieftain, 'let Alick have your horse in
readiness, in case we should be overmatched, and I shall be
delighted to have your company once more.'
The rear-guard were late in making their appearance, having been
delayed by various accidents and by the badness of the roads. At
length they entered the hamlet. When Waverley joined the clan Mac-
Ivor, arm-in-arm with their Chieftain, all the resentment they had
entertained against him seemed blown off at once. Evan Dhu
received him with a grin of congratulation; and even Callum, who
was running about as active as ever, pale indeed, and with a great
patch on his head, appeared delighted to see him.
'That gallows-bird's skull,' said Fergus, 'must be harder than
marble; the lock of the pistol was actually broken.'
'How could you strike so young a lad so hard?' said Waverley, with
some interest.
'Why, if I did not strike hard sometimes, the rascals would forget
themselves.'
They were now in full march, every caution being taken to prevent
surprise. Fergus's people, and a fine clan regiment from Badenoch,
commanded by Cluny Mac-Pherson, had the rear. They had passed a
large open moor, and were entering into the enclosures which
surround a small village called Clifton. The winter sun had set,
and Edward began to rally Fergus upon the false predictions of the
Grey Spirit. 'The ides of March are not past,' said Mac-Ivor, with
a smile; when, suddenly casting his eyes back on the moor, a large
body of cavalry was indistinctly seen to hover upon its brown and
dark surface. To line the enclosures facing the open ground and
the road by which the enemy must move from it upon the village was
the work of a short time. While these manoeuvres were
accomplishing, night sunk down, dark and gloomy, though the moon
was at full. Sometimes, however, she gleamed forth a dubious light
upon the scene of action.
The Highlanders did not long remain undisturbed in the defensive
position they had adopted. Favoured by the night, one large body
of dismounted dragoons attempted to force the enclosures, while
another, equally strong, strove to penetrate by the highroad. Both
were received by such a heavy fire as disconcerted their ranks and
effectually checked their progress. Unsatisfied with the advantage
thus gained, Fergus, to whose ardent spirit the approach of danger
seemed to restore all its elasticity, drawing his sword and
calling out 'Claymore!' encouraged his men, by voice and example,
to break through the hedge which divided them and rush down upon
the enemy. Mingling with the dismounted dragoons, they forced
them, at the sword-point, to fly to the open moor, where a
considerable number were cut to pieces. But the moon, which
suddenly shone out, showed to the English the small number of
assailants, disordered by their own success. Two squadrons of
horse moving to the support of their companions, the Highlanders
endeavoured to recover the enclosures. But several of them,
amongst others their brave Chieftain, were cut off and surrounded
before they could effect their purpose. Waverley, looking eagerly
for Fergus, from whom, as well as from the retreating body of his
followers, he had been separated in the darkness and tumult, saw
him, with Evan Dhu and Callum, defending themselves desperately
against a dozen of horsemen, who were hewing at them with their
long broadswords. The moon was again at that moment totally
overclouded, and Edward, in the obscurity, could neither bring aid
to his friends nor discover which way lay his own road to rejoin
the rear-guard. After once or twice narrowly escaping being slain
or made prisoner by parties of the cavalry whom he encountered in
the darkness, he at length reached an enclosure, and, clambering
over it, concluded himself in safety and on the way to the
Highland forces, whose pipes he heard at some distance. For Fergus
hardly a hope remained, unless that he might be made prisoner
Revolving his fate with sorrow and anxiety, the superstition of
the Bodach Glas recurred to Edward's recollection, and he said to
himself, with internal surprise 'What, can the devil speak truth?'
[Footnote: See Note 13.]