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 Invernahylewas
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 person, 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,
and even affected. He bade the Colonel take up
his commission, and granted the protection he required.
It was issued just in time to save the house, corn,
and cattle at Invernahyle from the troops, who were
engaged in laying waste what it was the fashion to
call ‘the country of the enemy.’
A small encampment of soldiers was formed on Invernahyle’s
property, which they spared while plundering the country
around, and searching in every direction for the leaders
of the insurrection, and for Stewart in particular.
He was much nearer them than they suspected; for,
hidden in a cave (like the Baron of Bradwardine),
he lay for many days so near the English sentinels
that he could hear their muster-roll called. His
food was brought to him by one of his daughters, a
child of eight years old, whom Mrs. Stewart was under
the necessity of entrusting with this commission;
for her own motions, and those of all her elder inmates,
were closely watched. With ingenuity beyond her
years, the child used to stray about among the soldiers,
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.
Invernahyle chanced to be in Edinburgh
when Paul Jones came into the Firth of Forth, and
though then an old man, I saw him in arms, and heard
him exult (to use his own words) in the prospect of
drawing his claymore once more before he died.’
In fact, on that memorable occasion, when the capital
of Scotland was menaced by three trifling sloops or
brigs, scarce fit to have sacked a fishing village,
he was the only man who seemed to propose a plan of
resistance. He offered to the magistrates, if
broadswords and dirks could be obtained, to find as
many Highlanders among the lower classes as would
cut off any boat’s crew who might be sent into
a town full of narrow and winding passages, in which
they were like to disperse in quest of plunder.
I know not if his plan was attended to, I rather think
it seemed too hazardous to the constituted authorities,
who might not, even at that time, desire to see arms
in Highland hands. A steady and powerful west
wind settled the matter by sweeping Paul Jones and
his vessels out of the Firth.
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 entrust
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 chapters
to which they severally relate. [Footnote: In
this edition at the end of the several volumes.]