Chapter VIII: 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.

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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.'

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.

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.

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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