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THE plan of this Edition leads me to insert in this place some account of the incidents on which the Novel of WAVERLEY is founded. They have been already given to the public, by my late lamented friend, William Erskine, Esq. (afterwards Lord Kinneder), when reviewing the Tales of My Landlord for the Quarterly Review, in 1817. The particulars were derived by the Critic from the Author's information. Afterwards they were published in the Preface to the Chronicles of the Canongate. They are now inserted in their proper place.

The mutual protection afforded by Waverley and Talbot to each other, upon which the whole plot depends, is founded upon one of those anecdotes which soften the features even of civil war; and as it is equally honourable to the memory of both parties, we have no hesitation to give their names at length. When the Highlanders, on the morning of the battle of Preston, 1745, made their memorable attack on Sir John Cope's army, a battery of four field-pieces was stormed and carried by the Camerons and the Stewarts of Appine. The late Alexander Stewart of Invernahyle was one of the foremost in the charge, and observing an officer of the King's forces, who, scorning to join the flight of all around, remained with his sword in his hand, as if determined to the very last to defend the post assigned to him, the Highland gentleman commanded him to surrender, and received for reply a thrust, which he caught in his target. The officer was now defenceless, and the battle-axe of a gigantic Highlander (the miller of Invernahyle's mill) was uplifted to dash his brains out, when Mr Stewart with difficulty prevailed on him to yield. He took charge of his enemy's property, protected his per

son, and finally obtained him liberty on his parole. The officer proved to be Colonel Whitefoord, an Ayrshire gentleman of high character and influence, and warmly attached to the House of Hanover; yet such was the confidence existing between these two honourable men, though of different political principles, that while the civil war was raging, and straggling officers from the Highland army were executed without mercy, Invernahyle hesitated not to pay his late captive a visit, as he returned to the Highlands to raise fresh recruits, on which occasion he spent a day or two in Ayrshire among Colonel Whitefoord's Whig friends, as pleasantly and as good-humouredly as if all had been at peace around him.

After the battle of Culloden had ruined the hopes of Charles Edward, and dispersed his proscribed adherents, it was Colonel Whitefoord's turn to strain every nerve to obtain Mr Stewart's pardon. He went to the Lord Justice-Clerk, to the Lord Advocate, and to all the officers of state, and each application was answered by the production of a list, in which Invernahyle (as the good old gentleman was wont to express it) appeared" marked with the sign of the beast!" as a subject unfit for favour or pardon.

At length Colonel Whitefoord applied to the Duke of Cumberland in person. From him, also, he received a positive refusal. He then limited his request, for the present, to a protection for Stewart's house, wife, children, and property. This was also refused by the Duke; on which Colonel Whitefoord, taking his commission from his bosom, laid it on the table before his Royal Highness with much emotion, and asked permission to retire from the service of a sovereign who did not know how to spare a vanquished enemy. The Duke was struck,

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and even affected. He bade the Colonel take up Invernahyle chanced to be in Edinburgh when his commission, and granted the protection he re-Paul Jones came into the Frith of Forth, and though quired. It was issued just in time to save the house, then an old man, I saw him in arms, and heard him corn, and cattle at Invernahyle, from the troops exult (to use his own words) in the prospect of who were engaged in laying waste what it was the "drawing his claymore once more before he died.” fashion to call "the country of the enemy.' A In fact, on that memorable occasion, when the capital small encampment of soldiers was formed on In- of Scotland was menaced by three trifling sloops or vernahyle's property, which they spared while plun- brigs, scarce fit to have sacked a fishing village, he dering the country around, and searching in every was the only man who seemed to propose a plan of direction for the leaders of the insurrection, and resistance. He offered to the magistrates, if broadfor Stewart in particular. He was much nearer swords and dirks could be obtained, to find as many them than they suspected; for, hidden in a cave Highlanders among the lower classes, as would cut (like the Baron of Bradwardine), he lay for many off any boat's crew who might be sent into a town days so near the English sentinels, that he could full of narrow and winding passages, in which they hear their muster-roll called. His food was brought were like to disperse in quest of plunder. I know to him by one of his daughters, a child of eight not if his plan was attended to; I rather think it years old, whom Mrs Stewart was under the ne- seemed too hazardous to the constituted authorities, cessity of intrusting with this commission; for her who might not, even at that time, desire to see arms own motions, and those of all her elder inmates, in Highland hands. A steady and powerful west were closely watched. With ingenuity beyond her wind settled the matter, by sweeping Paul Jones years, the child used to stray about among the sol- and his vessels out of the Frith. diers, who were rather kind to her, and thus seize the moment when she was unobserved, and steal into the thicket, when she deposited whatever small store of provisions she had in charge at some marked spot, where her father might find it. Invernahyle supported life for several weeks by means of these precarious supplies; and as he had been wounded in the battle of Culloden, the hardships which he endured were aggravated by great bodily pain. After the soldiers had removed their quarters, he had another remarkable escape.

.As he now ventured to his own house at night, and left it in the morning, he was espied during the dawn by a party of the enemy, who fired at and pursued him. The fugitive being fortunate enough to escape their search, they returned to the house, and charged the family with harbouring one of the proscribed traitors. An old woman had presence of mind enough to maintain that the man they had seen was the shepherd. "Why did he not stop when we called to him!" said the soldier.-" He is as deaf, poor man, as a peat-stack," answered the ready-witted domestic.- -"Let him be sent for directly." The real shepherd accordingly was brought from the hill, and as there was time to tutor him by the way, he was as deaf when he made his appearance, as was necessary to sustain his character. Invernahyle was afterwards pardoned under the Act of Indemnity.

The Author knew him well, and has often heard these circumstances from his own mouth. He was a noble specimen of the old Highlander, far descended, gallant, courteous, and brave, even to chivalry. He had been out, I believe, in 1715 and 1745, was an active partaker in all the stirring scenes which passed in the Highlands betwixt these memorable eras; and, I have heard, was remarkable, among other exploits, for having fought a duel with the broadsword with the celebrated Rob Roy MacGregor, at the Clachan of Balquidder.

If there is something degrading in this recollection, it is not unpleasant to compare it with those of the last war, when Edinburgh, besides regular forces and militia, furnished a volunteer brigade of cavalry, infantry, and artillery, to the amount of six thousand men and upwards, which was in readiness to meet and repel a force of a far more formidable description than was commanded by the adventurous American. Time and circumstances change the character of nations and the fate of cities; and it is some pride to a Scotchman to reflect, that the independent and manly character of a country willing to intrust its own protection to the arms of its children, after having been obscured for half a century, has, during the course of his own lifetime, recovered its lustre.

Other illustrations of Waverley will be found in the Notes at the foot of the pages to which they belong. Those which appeared too long to be so placed, are given at the end of the Novel.


To this slight attempt at a sketch of ancient Scottish manners, the public have been more favourable than the Author durst have hoped or expected. He has heard, with a mixture of satisfaction and humility, his work ascribed to more than one respectable name. Considerations, which seem weighty in his particular situation, prevent his releasing those gentlemen from suspicion by placing his own name in the title-page; so that, for the present at least, it must remain uncertain, whether WAVERLEY be the work of a poet or a critic, a lawyer or a clergy man, or whether the writer, to use Mrs Malaprop❜ phrase, be, "like Cerberus-three gentlemen a

once." The Author, as he is unconscious of any- | thing could be farther from his wish or intention thing in the work itself (except perhaps its frivolity) which prevents its finding an acknowledged father, leaves it to the candour of the public to choose among the many circumstances peculiar to different situations in life, such as may induce him to suppress his name on the present occasion. He may be a writer new to publication, and unwilling to avow a character to which he is unaccustomed; or he may be a hackneyed author, who is ashamed of too frequent appearance, and employs this mystery, as the heroine of the old comedy used her mask, to attract the attention of those to whom her face had become too familiar. He may be a man of a grave profession, to whom the reputation of being a novelwriter might be prejudicial; or he may be a man of fashion, to whom writing of any kind might appear pedantic. He may be too young to assume the character of an author, or so old as to make it advisable to lay it aside.

The Author of Waverley has heard it objected to this novel, that, in the character of Callum Beg, and in the account given by the Baron of Bradwardine of the petty trespasses of the Highlanders upon trifling articles of property, he has borne hard, and unjustly so, upon their national character. No

A homely metrical narrative of the events of the period, which contains some striking particulars, and is still a great favourite with the lower classes, gives a very correct statement of the behaviour of the mountaineers respecting this same military licence; and as the verses are little known, and contain some good sense, wo venture to insert them.

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I've seen the men call'd Highland Rogues,
With Lowland men make shangs a brogs,
Sup kail and brose, and fling the cogs
Out at the door,

Take cocks, hens, sheep, and hogs,
And pay nought for.

I saw a Highlander, 'twas right drole,
With a string of puddings hung on a pole,
Whip'd o'er his shoulder, skipped like a fole,
Caus'd Maggy bann,

Lap o'er the midden and midden-hole,
And aff he ran.

When check'd for this, they'd often tell ye-
Indeed her nainsell's a tume belly;

The character of Callum Beg is that of a spirit
naturally turned to daring evil, and determined, by
the circumstances of his situation, to a particular
species of mischief. Those who have perused the
curious Letters from the Highlands, published about
1726, will find instances of such atrocious charac-
ters which fell under the writer's own observation,
though it would be most unjust to consider such
villains as representatives of the Highlanders of
that period, any more than the murderers of Marr
and Williamson can be supposed to represent the
English of the present day. As for the plunder
supposed to have been picked up by some of the
insurgents in 1745, it must be remembered that,
although the way of that unfortunate little army
was neither marked by devastation nor bloodshed,
but, on the contrary, was orderly and quiet in a most
wonderful degree, yet no army marches through
a country in a hostile manner without committing
some depredations; and several, to the extent, and
of the nature, jocularly imputed to them by the
Baron, were really laid to the charge of the High-
land insurgents; for which many traditions, and par-
ticularly one respecting the Knight of the Mirror,
may be quoted as good evidence.1

You'll no gie't wanting bought, nor sell me;
Hersell will hae't;

Go tell King Shorge, and Shordy's Willie,
I'll hae a meat.

I saw the soldiers at Linton-brig,
Because the man was not a Whig,
Of meat and drink leave not a skig,
Within his door;

They burnt his very hat and wig,

And thump'd him sore.

And through the Highlands they were so rude,
As leave them neither clothes nor food,
Then burnt their houses to conclude:
'Twas tit for tat.

How can her nainsell e'er be good,
To think on that?

And after all, O shame and grief!
To use some worse than murd'ring thief,
Their very gentleman and chief,

Like Popish tortures, I believe,
Such cruelty.

Ev'n what was act on open stage
At Carlisle, in the hottest rage,
When mercy was clapt in a cage,
And pity dead,
Such cruelty approv'd by every age,
I shook my head.

So many to curse, so few to pray,
And some aloud huzza did cry;
They cursed the rebel Scots that day,
As they'd been nowt
Brought up for slaughter, as that way
Too many rowt.

Therefore, alas! dear countrymen,
O never do the like again,

To thirst for vengeance, never ben

Your gun nor pa',


But with the English e'en borrow and len'.
Let anger fa'.

Their boasts and bullying, not worth a louse
As our King's the best about the house.
'Tis aye good to be sober and douce,

To live in peace;

For many, I see, for being o'er crouse,
Gets broken face.




I scorn to tyrannize longer over the impatience of my reader, who is doubtless already anxious to know the choice made by an author so profoundly versed in the different branches of his art.

roine with a profusion of auburn hair, and a harp the soft solace of her solitary hours, which she for tunately finds always the means of transporting THE title of this work has not been chosen with- from castle to cottage, although she herself be someout the grave and solid deliberation, which matters times obliged to jump out of a two-pair-of-stairs of importance demand from the prudent. Even its window, and is more than once bewildered on her first, or general denomination, was the resul. of no journey, alone and on foot, without any guide but common research or selection, although, according a blowzy peasant girl, whose jargon she hardly can to the example of my predecessors, I had only to understand? Or again, if my Waverley had been seize upon the most sounding and euphonic surname entitled "A Tale of the Times," wouldst thou not, that English history or topography affords, and elect gentle reader, have demanded from me a dashing it at once as the title of my work, and the name of sketch of the fashionable world, a few anecdotes my hero. But, alas! what could my readers have of private scandal thinly veiled, and if lusciously expected from the chivalrous epithets of Howard, painted, so much the better? a heroine from GrosMordaunt, Mortimer, or Stanley, or from the softer venor Square, and a hero from the Barouche Club and more sentimental sounds of Belmour, Belville, or the Four-in-Hand, with a set of subordinate chaBelfield, and Belgrave, but pages of inanity, simi- racters from the elegantes of Queen Anne Street lar to those which have been so christened for half East, or the dashing heroes of the Bow-Street Office! a century past? I must modestly admit I am too I could proceed in proving the importance of a titlediffident of my own merit to place it in unnecessary page, and displaying at the same time my own opposition to preconceived associations; I have, intimate knowledge of the particular ingredients therefore, like a maiden knight with his white shield, necessary to the composition of romances and noassumed for my hero, WAVERLEY, an uncontami-vels of various descriptions: But it is enough, and nated name, bearing with its sound little of good or evil, excepting what the reader shall hereafter be pleased to affix to it. But my second or supplemental title was a matter of much more difficult election, since that, short as it is, may be held as pledging By fixing, then, the date of my story Sixty Years the author to some special mode of laying his scene, before the present 1st November 1805, I would have drawing his characters, and managing his adven- my readers understand, that they will meet in the tures. Had I, for example, announced in my fron- following pages neither a romance of chivalry, nor tispiece, "Waverley, a Tale of other Days," must a tale of modern manners; that my hero will neither not every novel reader have anticipated a castle have iron on his shoulders, as of yore, nor on the scarce less than that of Udolpho, of which the east- heels of his boots, as is the present fashion of Bond ern wing had long been uninhabited, and the keys Street; and that my damsels will neither be clothed either lost, or consigned to the care of some aged" in purple and in pall," like the Lady Alice of an butler or housekeeper, whose trembling steps, about old ballad, nor reduced to the primitive nakedness the middle of the second volume, were doomed to of a modern fashionable at a rout. From this my guide the hero, or heroine, to the ruinous precincts? choice of an era the understanding critic may farther Would not the owl have shrieked and the cricket presage, that the object of my tale is more a descripcried in my very title-page? and could it have been tion of men than manners. A tale of manners, to possible for me, with a moderate attention to deco- be interesting, must either refer to antiquity so great rum, to introduce any scene more lively than might as to have become venerable, or it must bear a vivid be produced by the jocularity of a clownish but faith- reflection of those scenes which are passing daily beful valet, or the garrulous narrative of the heroine's fore our eyes, and are interesting from their novelty. fille-de-chambre, when rehearsing the stories of Thus th coat-of-mail of our ancestors, and the tripleblood and horror which she had heard in the ser- furred pelisse of our modern beaux, may, though for vants' hall? Again, had my title borne " Waverley, very different reasons, be equally fit for the array a Romance from the German," what head so obtuse of a fictitious character; but who, meaning the cosas not to image forth a profligate abbot, an oppres-tume of his hero to be impressive, would willingly sive duke, a secret and mysterious association of attire him in the court dress of George the Second's Rosycrucians and Illuminati, with all their proper-reign, with its no collar, large sleeves, and low pocketties of black cowls, caverns, daggers, electrical machines, trap-doors, and dark-lanterns? Or if I had rather chosen to call my work a "Sentimental Tale," would it not have been a sufficient presage of a he

holes? The same may be urged, with equal truth, of the Gothic hall, which, with its darkened and tinted windows, its elevated and gloomy roof, and massive oaken table garnished with boars-head and

rosemary, pheasants and peacocks, cranes and cygnets, has an excellent effect in fictitious description. Much may also be gained by a lively display of a modern fete, such as we have daily recorded in that part of a newspaper entitled the Mirror of Fashion, if we contrast these, or either of them, with the splendid formality of an entertainment given Sixty Years since; and thus it will be readily seen how much the painter of antique or of fashionable manners gains over him who delineates those of the last generation.

Considering the disadvantages inseparable from this part of my subject, I must be understood to have resolved to avoid them as much as possible, by throwing the force of my narrative upon the characters and passions of the actors;-those passions common to men in all stages of society, and which have alike agitated the human heart, whether it throbbed under the steel corslet of the fifteenth century, the brocaded coat of the eighteenth, or the blue frock and white dimity waistcoat of the present day. Upon these passions it is no doubt true that the state of manners and laws casts a necessary colouring; but the bearings, to use the language of heraldry, remain the same, though the tincture may be not only different, but opposed in strong contradistinction. The wrath of our ancestors, for example, was coloured gules; it broke forth in acts of open and sanguinary violence against the objects of its fury. Our malignant feelings, which must seek gratification through more indirect channels, and undermine the obstacles which they cannot openly bear down, may be rather said to be tinctured sable. But the deep-ruling impulse is the same in both cases; and the proud peer who can now only ruin his neighbour according to law, by protracted suits, is the genuine descendant of the baron who wrapped the castle of his competitor in flames, and knocked him on the head as he endeavoured to escape from the conflagration. It is from the great book of Nature, the same through a thousand editions, whether of black-letter, or wire-wove and hot-pressed, that I have venturously essayed to read a chapter to the public. Some favourable opportunities of contrast have been afforded me, by the state of society in the northern part of the island at the period of my history, and may serve at once to vary and to illustrate the moral lessons, which I would willingly consider as the most important part of my plan; although I am sensible how short these will fall of their aim, if I shall be found unable to mix them with amusement, -a task not quite so easy in this critical generation as it was "Sixty Years since."


Waverley-Honour.-A Retrospect.

Ir is, then, sixty years since Edward Waverley, the hero of the following pages, took leave of his family, to join the regiment of dragoons in which he had lately obtained a commission. It was a melancholy day at Waverley-Honour when the young officer parted with Sir Everard, the affectionate old uncle to whose title and estate he was presumptive heir.

Alas! that attire, respectable and gentlemanlike in 1805, or thereabouts, is now as antiquated as the Author of Waverley has himself become since that period! The reader of fashion will please to fill up the costume with an

A difference in political opinions had early separated the Baronet from his younger brother Richard Waverley, the father of our hero. Sir Everard had inherited from his sires the whole train of Tory or High-church predilections and prejudices, which had distinguished the house of Waverley since the Great Civil War. Richard, on the contrary, who was ten years younger, beheld himself born to the fortune of a second brother, and anticipated neither dignity nor entertainment in sustaining the character of Will Wimble. He saw early, that, to succeed in the race of life, it was necessary he should carry as little weight as possible. Painters talk of the dif ficulty of expressing the existence of compound passions in the same features at the same moment: It would be no less difficult for the moralist to analyze the mixed motives which unite to form the impulse of our actions. Richard Waverley read and satisfied himself, from history and sound argumcut, that, in the words of the old song,

Passive obedience was a jest,


And pshaw! was non-resistance; yet reason would have probably been unable to combt and remove hereditary prejudice, could Richard ha e anticipated that his elder brother, Sir Everard, taking to heart an early disappointment, would have remained a bachelor at seventy-two. prospect of succession, however remote, might in that case have led him to endure dragging through the greater part of his life as "Master Richard at the Hall, the baronet's brother," in the hope that ere its conclusion he should be distinguished as Sir Richard Waverley of Waverley-Honour, successor to a princely estate, and to extended political connexions as head of the county interest in the shire where it lay. But this was a consummation of things not to be expected at Richard's outset, when Sir Everard was in the prime of life, and certain to be an acceptable suitor in almost any family, whether wealth or beauty should be the object of his pursuit, and when, indeed, his speedy marriage was a report which regularly amused the neighbourhood once a-year. His younger brother saw no practicable road to independence save that of relying upon his own exertions, and adopting a political creed more consonant both to reason and his own interest than the hereditary faith of Sir Everard in Highchurch and in the house of Stewart. He therefore read his recantation at the beginning of his carcer, and entered life as an avowed Whig, and friend of the Hanover succession.

The ministry of George the First's time were prudently anxious to diminish the phalanx of opposition. The Tory nobility, depending for their reflected lustre upon the sunshine of a court, had for Some time been gradually reconciling themselves to the new dynasty. But the wealthy country gentlemen of England, a rank which retained, with much of ancient manners and primitive integrity, a great proportion of obstinate and unyielding prejudice, stood aloof in haughty and sullen opposition, and cast many a look of mingled regret and hope to Bois le Duc, Avignon, and Italy. The accession of the near relation of one of those steady and inflexible opponents was considered as a means of bringing over more converts, and therefore Richard

embroidered waistcoat of purple velvet or silk, and a cont of whatever colour he pleases.

Where the Chevalier Saint George, or, as he was termed, the Old Pretender, held his exiled court, as his situation compelled him to shift his place of residence.

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