Waverley; Or, 'Tis Sixty Years Since

Home > Fiction > Waverley; Or, 'Tis Sixty Years Since > Page 60
Waverley; Or, 'Tis Sixty Years Since Page 60

by Walter Scott


  CHAPTER LIX

  A SKIRMISH

  The reader need hardly be reminded, that, after a council of war heldat Derby on the 5th of December, the Highlanders relinquished theirdesperate attempt to penetrate farther into England, and, greatly to thedissatisfaction of their young and daring leader, positively determinedto return northward. They commenced their retreat accordingly, and bythe extreme celerity of their movements, outstripped the motions ofthe Duke of Cumberland, who now pursued them with a very large body ofcavalry.

  This retreat was a virtual resignation of their towering hopes. None hadbeen so sanguine as Fergus Mac-Ivor; none, consequently, was so cruellymortified at the change of measures. He argued, or rather remonstrated,with the utmost vehemence at the council of war; and, when his opinionwas rejected, shed tears of grief and indignation. From that momenthis whole manner was so much altered, that he could scarcely have beenrecognized for the same soaring and ardent spirit, for whom the wholeearth seemed too narrow but a week before. The retreat had continuedfor several days, when Edward, to his surprise, early on the 12th ofDecember, received a visit from the Chieftain in his quarters, in ahamlet about half way between Shap and Penrith.

  Having had no intercourse with the Chieftain since their rupture, Edwardwaited with some anxiety an explanation of this unexpected visit; norcould he help being surprised, and somewhat shocked, with the change inhis appearance. His eye had lost much of its fire; his cheek was hollow,his voice was languid; even his gait seemed less firm and elasticthan it was wont; and his dress, to which he used to be particularlyattentive, was now carelessly flung about him. He invited Edward towalk out with him by the little river in the vicinity; and smiled ina melancholy manner when he observed him take down and buckle on hissword.

  As soon as they were in a wild sequestered path by the side of thestream, 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 atme, man. I tell you I received a packet from my sister yesterday, and,had I got the information it contains sooner, it would have preventeda quarrel, which I am always vexed when I think of. In a letter writtenafter our dispute, I acquainted her with the cause of it; and she nowreplies to me, that she never had, nor could have, any purpose of givingyou encouragement; so that it seems I have acted like a madman. PoorFlora! she writes in high spirits; what a change will the news of thisunhappy retreat make in her state of mind!'

  Waverley, who was really much affected by the deep tone of melancholywith which Fergus spoke, affectionately entreated him to banish from hisremembrance any unkindness which had arisen between them, and they oncemore shook hands, but now with sincere cordiality. Fergus again inquiredof Waverley what he intended to do. 'Had you not better leave thisluckless army, and get down before us into Scotland, and embark forthe Continent from some of the eastern ports that are still in ourpossession? When you are out of the kingdom, your friends will easilynegotiate your pardon; and, to tell you the truth, I wish you wouldcarry Rose Bradwardine with you as your wife, and take Flora also underyour joint protection.' Edward looked surprised--'She loves you, and Ibelieve you love her, though, perhaps, you have not found it out, foryou are not celebrated for knowing your own mind very pointedly.' Hesaid this with a sort of smile.

  'How!' answered Edward,' can you advise me to desert the expedition inwhich we are all embarked?'

  'Embarked?' said Fergus; 'the vessel is going to pieces, and it is fulltime for all who can, to get into the long-boat and leave her.'

  'Why, what will other gentlemen do?' answered Waverley, 'and why did theHighland chiefs consent to this retreat, if it is so ruinous?'

  'Oh,' replied Mac-Ivor, 'they think that, as on former occasions, theheading, hanging, and forfeiting, will chiefly fall to the lot of theLowland gentry; that they will be left secure in their poverty and theirfastnesses, there, according to their proverb, "to listen to the windupon 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 hisgood humour for some time. The Hanoverian ministers always deservedto be hanged for rascals; but now, if they get the power in theirhands,--as, sooner or later, they must, since there is neither risingin England nor assistance from France,--they will deserve the gallows asfools, if they leave a single clan in the Highlands in a situation tobe again troublesome to Government. Aye, they will make root-and-branchwork, I warrant them.'

  'And while you recommend flight to me,' said Edward,--'a counsel which Iwould rather die than embrace,--what are your own views?'

  'Oh,' answered Fergus, with a melancholy air, 'my fate is settled. Deador captive I must be before to-morrow.'

  'What do you mean by that, my friend?' said Edward. 'The enemy is stilla day's march in our rear, and if he comes up, we are still strongenough to keep him in check. Remember Gladsmuir.'

  'What I tell you is true notwithstanding, so far as I am individuallyconcerned.'

  'Upon what authority can you found so melancholy a prediction?' askedWaverley.

  '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 GreySpectre? though indeed there is a certain reluctance among us to mentionhim.'

  '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 justwinding towards yon mountainous country, were Loch Tay, or my own Lochan Ri, the tale would be better suited with scenery. However, let us sitdown on this knell; even Saddleback and Ullswater will suit what I haveto say better than the English hedgerows, enclosures, and farm-houses.You must know, then, that when my ancestor, Ian nan Chaistel, wastedNorthumberland, there was associated with him in the expedition a sortof Southland Chief, or captain of a band of Low-landers, called HalbertHall. In their return through the Cheviots, they quarrelled about thedivision of the great booty they had acquired, and came from words toblows. The Lowlanders were cut off to a man, and their chief fell thelast, 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 greatdisaster was impending, but especially before approaching death. Myfather 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, ascertainedby three hundred years' experience at least, and last night by my owneyes.'

  'The particulars, for Heaven's sake!' said Waverley, with eagerness.

  'I will, on condition you will not attempt a jest on the subject.--Sincethis unhappy retreat commenced, I have scarce ever been able to sleepfor thinking of my clan, and of this poor Prince, whom they are leadingback like a dog in a string, whether he will or no, and of the downfallof my family. Last night I felt so feverish that I left my quarters, andwalked out, in hopes the keen frosty air would brace my nerves--I cannottell how much I dislike going on, for I know you will hardly believe me.However--I crossed a small footbridge, and kept walking backwards andforwards, when I observed with surprise, by the clear moonlight, a tallfigure 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 beforeme.'

  'You saw a Cumberland peasant in his ordinary dress, probably.'

  'No: I thought so at first, and was astonished at the man's audacityin daring to dog me. I called to him but received no answer. I felt ananxious throbbing at my heart; and to ascertain what I dreaded, I stoodstill, and turned myself on the same spot successively to the fourpoints of the compass--By Heaven, Edward, turn where I would, the figurewas instantly before my eyes, at precisely the same distance! I was thenconvinced it was the Boda
ch Glas. My hair bristled, and my knees shook.I manned myself, however, and determined to return to my quarters. Myghastly visitant glided before me (for I cannot say he walked), until hereached the footbridge: there he stopped, and turned full round. I musteither wade the river, or pass him as close as I am to you. A desperatecourage, founded on the belief that my death was near, made me resolveto make my way in despite of him. I made the sign of the cross, drew mysword, and uttered, "In the name of God, Evil Spirit, give place!" "VichIan Vohr," it said, in a voice that made my very blood curdle, "bewareof to-morrow!" It seemed at that moment not half a yard from my sword'spoint; but the words were no sooner spoken than it was gone, and nothingappeared further to obstruct my passage. I got home, and threw myself onmy bed, where I spent a few hours heavily enough; and this morning, asno enemy was reported to be near us, I took my horse, and rode forwardto make up matters with you. I would not willingly fall until I am incharity with a wronged friend.'

  Edward had little doubt that this phantom was the operation of anexhausted frame and depressed spirits, working on the belief common toall 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 offeredwith the Baron's permission, which he knew he could readily obtain, toremain in his quarters till Fergus's corps should come up, and then tomarch with them as usual. The Chief seemed much pleased, yet hesitatedto 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 over-matched, and I shall be delighted to have yourcompany once more.'

  The rearguard were late in making their appearance, having been delayedby various accidents and by the badness of the roads. At length theyentered the hamlet. When Waverley joined the clan Mac-Ivor, arm in armwith their Chieftain, all the resentment they had entertained againsthim seemed blown off at once. Evan Dhu received him with a grin ofcongratulation; and even Callum, who was running about as activeas ever, pale indeed, and with a great patch on his head, appeareddelighted 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 someinterest.

  'Why, if I did not strike hard sometimes, the rascals would forgetthemselves.'

  They were now in full march, every caution being taken to preventsurprise. Fergus's people, and a fine clan regiment from Badenoch,commanded by Cluny Mac-Pherson, had the rear. They had passed a largeopen moor, and were entering into the enclosures which surround a smallvillage called Clifton. The winter sun had set, and Edward began torally Fergus upon the false predictions of the Grey Spirit. 'The Ides ofMarch are not past,' said Mac-Ivor, with a smile; when, suddenly castinghis eyes back on the moor, a large body of cavalry was indistinctly seento hover upon its brown and dark surface. To line the enclosures facingthe open ground, and the road by which the enemy must move from it uponthe village, was the work of a short time. While these manoeuvres wereaccomplishing, night sunk down, dark and gloomy, though the moon wasat full. Sometimes, however, she gleamed forth a dubious light upon thescene of action.

  The Highlanders did not remain long undisturbed in the defensiveposition they had adopted. Favoured by the night, one large body ofdismounted dragoons attempted to force the enclosures, while another,equally strong, strove to penetrate by the high road. Both were receivedby such a heavy fire as disconcerted their ranks, and effectuallychecked their progress. Unsatisfied with the advantage thus gained,Fergus, to whose ardent spirit the approach of danger seemed to restoreall ifs elasticity, drawing his sword, and calling out 'Claymore!'encouraged his men, by voice and example, to break through the hedgewhich divided them, and rush down upon the enemy. Mingling with thedismounted dragoons, they forced them, at the sword-point, to fly to theopen moor, where a considerable number were cut to pieces. But the moon,which suddenly shone out, showed to the English the small number ofassailants, disordered by their own success. Two squadrons of horsemoving to the support of their companions, the Highlanders endeavouredto recover the enclosures. But several of them, amongst others theirbrave Chieftain, were cut off and surrounded before they could effecttheir purpose. Waverley, looking eagerly for Fergus, from whom, as wellas from the retreating body of his followers, he had been separated inthe darkness and tumult, saw him, with Evan Dhu and Callum, defendingthemselves desperately against a dozen of horsemen, who were hewingat them with their long broadswords. The moon was again at that momenttotally overclouded, and Edward, in the obscurity, could neither bringaid to his friends, nor discover which way lay his own road to rejointhe rear-guard. After once or twice narrowly escaping being slain ormade prisoner by parties of the cavalry whom he encountered in thedarkness, 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 hoperemained, unless that he might be made prisoner. Revolving his fatewith sorrow and anxiety, the superstition of the Bodach Glas recurred toEdward's recollection, and he said to himself, with internal surprise,'What, can the devil speak truth?' [See Note 32.]

 

‹ Prev